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Zane  Gr? 

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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  YOUNG  LION  HUNTER 


[See  page  269 

"THE  COUGAR  PUT  FORWARD  ONE  BIG  PAW" 


THE  YOUNG 
LION  HUNTER 


BY 

ZANE  GREY 


AUTHOR  OF 

THE  YOUNG  FORESTER, 
THE  YOUNG  PITCHER, 
KEN  WARD  IN  THE  JUNGLE, 
THE  U.  P.  TRAIL,  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    YORK 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


Published  by  Arrangement  with  Harper  &  Brother* 
Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


f>S 

•»»  s 

Or  S 


CONTENTS 

CRAP.  PAGE 

I.  KEN  WARD'S  ARRIVAL  IN  UTAH  .     .     .    «    .  i 

II.  WINGS 13 

III.  OFF  FOR  COCONINA 30 

IV.  THROUGH  BUCKSKIN  FOREST 41 

V.  THE  PLATEAU 51 

VI.  TRAILS 61 

VII.  Two  LIONS 72 

VIII.  IN  CAMP 86 

IX.  A  VISIT  FROM  RANGERS       104 

X.  HAL 119 

XL  HIRAM  CALLS  ON  KEN 133 

XII.  NAVVY'S  WATERLOO 146 

XIII.  THE  CANON  AND  ITS  DISCOVERERS   ....  163 

XIV.  HIRAM  BENT'S  STORY 175 

XV.  WILD  MUSTANGS 185 

XVI.  SPLIT  TRAILS 203 

XVII.  STRENUOUS  WORK 218 

XVIII.  HAL'S  LESSON 236 

XIX.  KEN  AND  PRINCE 256 

XX.  AROUND  THE  CAMP-FIRE       .......  272 


651351 


THE  YOUNG  LION  HUNTER 


THE 
YOUNG  LION  HUNTER 

CHAPTER  I 
KEN  WARD'S  ARRIVAL  IN  UTAH 

"F\ICK,  I  shore  will  be  glad  to  see  Ken," 
*-**  said  Jim  Williams,  in  his  lazy  drawl. 
"I  reckon  you'll  be,  too?" 

Jim's  cool  and  careless  way  of  saying  things 
sometimes  irritated  me.  Glad  to  see  Ken 
Ward!  I  was  crazy  to  see  the  lad. 

"Jim,  what  you  know  about  being  glad  to 
see  any  one  isn't  a  whole  lot,"  I  replied. 
11  You've  been  a  Texan  ranger  all  your  life. 
I've  only  been  out  here  in  this  wild,  forsaken 
country  for  three  years.  Ken  Ward  is  from 
my  home  in  Pennsylvania.  He  probably  saw 
x 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

my  mother  the  day  he  left  to  come  West.  .  .  . 
Glad  to  see  him?  Say!" 

"  Wai,  you  needn't  git  peevish.  Now,  if  we 
calkilated  right  from  Ken's  letter  he'll  be  on 
to-day's  stage — an'  there  she  comes  bowlin* 
round  the  corner  of  the  Pink  Cliffs." 

I  glanced  up  eagerly,  my  eye  sweeping  out 
on  the  desert,  climbing  the  red  ridge  to  see  a 
cloud  of  dust  rolling  along  the  base  of  the 
great  walls. 

"  By  Jingo!  You're  right,  Jim.  Here  she 
comes.  Say,  I  hope  Ken  is  aboard." 

Jim  and  I  were  sitting  on  a  box  in  front  of 
a  store  in  the  little  town  of  Kanab,  Utah. 
The  day  before  we  had  ridden  in  off  Buckskin 
Mountain,  having  had  Ken  Ward's  letter 
brought  out  to  us  by  one  of  the  forest  rangers. 
We  had  a  room  in  a  cottage  where  we  kept 
what  traps  and  belongings  we  did  not  need 
out  on  the  preserve;  and  here  I  had  stored 
Ken's  saddle,  rifle,  lasso,  blanket — all  the 
things  he  had  used  during  his  memorable  so- 
journ with  us  on  Penetier  the  year  before. 
Also  we  had  that  morning  sent  out  to  one  of 
the  ranches  for  Ken's  mustang,  which  was 
now  in  a  near-by  corral.  We  intended  to  sur- 

2 


KEN  WARD'S   ARRIVAL   IN  UTAH 

prise  Ken,  for  it  was  not  likely  we  would 
forget  how  much  he  cared  for  that  mustang. 
So  we  waited,  watching  the  cloud  of  dust 
roll  down  the  ridge  till  we  could  see  under  it 
the  old  gray  stage  swaying  from  side  to  side. 

"  Shore,  he  mightn't  be  aboard,"  said  Jim. 

I  reproached  myself  then  for  having  scorned 
Jim's  matter-of-fact  way.  After  all  there 
was  no  telling  from  Jim's  looks  or  words  just 
how  he  felt.  No  doubt  he  looked  forward 
to  Ken's  visit  as  pleasurably  as  I.  We  were 
two  lonely  forest  rangers,  seldom  coming  to 
the  village,  and  always  detailed  to  duty  in 
the  far  solitudes  of  Coconina  Preserve,  so  that 
the  advent  of  a  lively  and  companionable 
youngster  would  be  in  the  nature  of  a  treat. 

The  stage  bumped  down  over  the  last  rocky 
steps  of  the  ridge,  and  headed  into  the  main 
street  of  Kanab.  The  four  dusty  horses 
trotted  along  with  a  briskness  that  showed 
they  knew  they  had  reached  the  end  of  their 
journey. 

"  There's  a  red-headed  kid  sittin'  with  the 
driver,"  remarked  Jim.  "  Leslie,  thet  can't 
be  Ken." 

"  No,  Ken's  hair  is  light.  .  .  .  There  he  is, 
3 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

Jim.  .  .  .  There's  Ken.  He's  looking  out  of 
the  window!" 

The  horses  clattered  up  and  stopped  short 
with  a  rattle  and  clink  of  trappings,  and  a 
lumbering  groan  from  the  old  stage.  Some- 
body let  out  a  ringing  yell.  I  saw  the  driver 
throw  off  a  mail-pouch.  Then  a  powerful 
young  fellow  leaped  over  the  wheel  and 
bounded  at  me.  "  Dick  Leslie!"  he  yelled. 
I  thought  I  knew  that  yellow  hair,  flying  up, 
and  the  keen  eyes  like  flashes  of  blue  fire. 
But  before  I  could  be  sure  of  anything  he 
was  upon  me,  had  me  in  a  bear  hug  that 
stopped  my  breath.  Then  I  knew  it  was 
Ken  Ward. 

"  Oh,  Dick,  maybe  I'm  not  glad  to  see 
you!"  Whereupon  he  released  me,  which 
made  it  possible  for  me  to  greet  him.  He 
interrupted  me  with  eager  pleasure,  handing 
me  a  small  bundle  and  some  letters.  "  From 
home,  Dick — your  mother  and  sister.  Both 
well  when  I  left  and  tickled  to  death  that  I 
was  going  to  visit  you.  .  .  .  Why — hello, 
Jim  Williams!" 

"  Ken,  I  shore  am  glad  to  see  you,"  replied 
Jim,  as  he  wrung  and  pumped  Ken's  hand. 

4 


KEN  WARD'S   ARRIVAL   IN  UTAH 

"  But  I  wouldn't  V  knowed  you.  Why,  how 
you've  growed!  An'  you  wasn't  no  striplin' 
when  you  trimmed  the  Greaser  last  summer. 
Ken,  you  could  lick  him  now  in  about  a 
rriinnit." 

"  Well,  maybe  not  quite  so  quick,"  replied 
Ken,  laughing.  "  Jim,  I've  taken  on  fifteen 
or  twenty  pounds  since  I  had  that  scrap  with 
the  Greaser,  and  I've  had  a  season's  training 
under  the  most  famous  football  and  baseball 
trainers  in  the  world." 

"  Wai,  now,  Ken,  you're  shore  goin'  to  tell 
me  all  about  thet,"  said  Jim,  greatly  inter- 
ested. 

To  me  Ken  Ward  had  changed,  and  I 
studied  him  with  curious  interest.  The  added 
year  sat  well  upon  him,  for  there  was  now  no 
suggestion  of  caUowness.  The  old  frank, 
boyish  look  was  the  same,  yet  somewhat 
different.  Ken  had  worked,  studied,  suffered. 
But  as  to  his  build,  it  was  easy  to  see  the 
change.  That  promise  of  magnificent  strength 
and  agility,  which  I  had  seen  in  him  since  he 
was  a  mere  boy,  had  reached  its  fulfilment. 
Lithe  and  straight  as  an  Indian,  almost  tall, 
wide  across  the  shoulders,  small-waisted  and 
5 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

small-hipped,  and  with  muscles  rippling  at 
his  every  move,  he  certainly  was  the  most 
splendid  specimen  of  young  manhood  I  had 
ever  seen. 

"  Hey,  Kid,  why  don't  you  come  down?" 
called  Ken  to  the  boy  on  top  of  the  stage. 
"  Here's  Dick  Leslie — you  remember  him." 

I  looked  from  the  boy  to  Ken. 

"  It's  my  brother  Hal,"  responded  Ken. 
"  Father  wanted  me  to  bring  him  along,  and 
Hal  has  been  clean  mad  ever  since  I  was  out 
West  last  year.  So,  Dick,  I  had  to  bring 
him.  I  expect  you'll  be  angry  with  me,  but 
I  couldn't  have  come  without  him.  I  wanted 
him  along,  too,  Dick,  and  if  it's  all  right  with 
you — ' ' 

"  Sure,  Ken,  it's  all  right,"  I  interrupted. 
"  Only  he's  pretty  much  of  a  kid — has  he  got 
any  sand?" 

"  He's  all  sand,"  replied  Ken,  in  a  lower 
voice.  "  That's  the  trouble;  he's  got  too 
much  sand." 

Ken  called  to  his  brother  again  and  the 
youngster  reluctantly  clambered  down.  Evi- 
dently the  meeting  with  Ken's  ranger  friends 
was  to  be  an  ordeal  for  Hal.  I  seemed  to 
f 


KEN  WARD'S   ARRIVAL   IN  UTAH 

remember  his  freckled  face  and  red  head, 
but  not  very  well.  Then  he  dropped  over  the 
wheel  of  the  stage,  and  came  toward  me 
readily,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  Hullo,  Dick,  I  remember  you  all  right," 
he  said. 

I  replied  to  his  greeting  and  gave  the  lad 
a  close  scrutiny.  I  should  say  fourteen  years 
would  have  topped  his  age.  He  was  short, 
sturdy,  and  looked  the  outdoor  boy.  His 
expression  was  one  of  intense  interest,  as  if 
he  lived  every  moment  of  his  life  to  its  utmost, 
and  he  had  the  most  singular  eyes  I  ever 
beheld.  They  were  very  large,  of  a  piercing 
light  gray,  and  they  seemed  to  take  every- 
thing in  with  a  kind  of  daring  flash.  Alto- 
gether, I  thought,  here  was  a  lad  out  of  the 
ordinary,  one  with  latent  possibilities  which 
gave  me  a  vague  alarm. 

"  Wai,  now,  so  you're  Ken's  brother,"  said 
Jim  Williams.  "  I  shore  am  glad  to  see  you. 
Ken  an'  me  was  pretty  tolerable  pals  last 
summer,  an'  I  reckon  you  an'  me  kin  be  thet, 
too." 

It  was  plain  Jim  liked  the  looks  of  the 
youngster  or  else  he  would  never  have  made 
7 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

that  speech.  Hal  approached  the  ranger 
and  shook  hands  awkwardly.  He  was  not 
timid,  but  backward.  I  saw  that  he  was  all 
eyes,  and  he  looked  Jim  over  from  spurs  to 
broadbrim  with  the  look  of  one  who  was 
comparing  the  reality  with  a  picture  long 
carried  in  mind.  Of  course  Ken  had  told 
Hal  all  about  the  Texan,  and  what  that  telling 
must  have  been  showed  plainly  in  the  lad's 
manner.  Manifestly  he  was  satisfied  with 
Jim's  tall  form,  his  sun-scorched  face  and 
hawk  eyes,  the  big  blue  gun  Jim  packed,  and 
the  high  boots  and  spurs  he  wore. 

"  Where's  Hiram  Bent?"  asked  Ken,  ear- 
nestly. 

"  Hiram's  back  on  the  saddle  with  his 
hounds.  He's  waiting  for  us." 

"  He  told  me  about  them,"  replied  Ken. 
"  Lion  dogs,  the  best  in  the  West,  Hiram  said. 
I  guess  maybe  I'm  not  aching  to  see  them. 
.  .  .  Dick!  My  mustang!  I  forgot  him.  What 
did  you  ever  do  with  him?  You  know  I  left 
him  with  you  at  Holston  last  summer." 

"  Well  see  if  we  can't  hear  something  of 
him,"  I  replied,  evasively,  as  if  I  wanted  Ken 
to  meet  a  disappointment  gradually.  His 
8 


KEN  WARD'S  ARRIVAL   IN  UTAH 

face  fell,  but  he  did  not  say  any  more  about 
the  mustang.  "  Ken,  I'm  going  to  sign  you 
into  service  as  a  ranger — my  helper.  Hiram 
is  game- warden,  you  know,  and  I've  arranged 
for  us  to  go  with  him.  He's  specially  engaged 
now  in  trying  to  clean  out  the  cougars.  The 
critters  are  thick  as  hops  back  on  the  north 
rim,  and  we've  got  a  lively  summer  ahead 
of  us." 

"  Sounds  great,"  replied  Ken.  "  Say,  what 
do  you  mean  by  north  rim?" 

"  It's  the  north  rim  of  the  Canon — Grand 
Canon — and  the  wildest,  ruggedest  country  on 
earth." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  forgot  that  Coconina  takes  in 
the  Canon.  Will  we  get  to  see  much  of  it?" 

"  Ken,  in  a  month  from  now  you'll  be  sick 
of  climbing  out  of  that  awful  gash." 

For  answer  Ken  smiled  his  doubts.  Then, 
leaving  Jim  and  Hal,  who  appeared  to  be 
getting  on  a  friendly  footing,  I  took  Ken  over 
to  the  office  of  Mr.  Birch,  the  Supervisor  of 
Coconina  Forest  Preserve.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  this  rather  superior  person  had  always 
jarred  on  me.  He  was  inclined  to  be  arro- 
gant, and  few  of  the  rangers  liked  him.  I 
9 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

had  to  get  along  with  him,  for  being  head 
ranger,  it  was  policy  for  me  to  keep  a  civil 
tongue  in  my  head.  When  I  introduced  Ken 
and  stated  my  desire  to  sign  him  in  as  my 
helper  the  Supervisor  looked  rebellious  and 
said  I  had  all  the  helpers  I  needed. 

"  Who  is  this  fellow  anyhow,  Leslie?"  he 
demanded.  "I'm  not  going  to  have  any  of 
your  Eastern  friends  chasing  around  the 
preserve,  setting  fires  and  killing  deer.  This 
idea  of  yours  about  a  helper  is  only  a  bluff. 
I  don 't  sign  any  more  rangers.  Understand  ? ' ' 

I  bit  my  tongue  to  keep  from  loosing  it, 
and  while  I  was  trying  to  think  what  was  best 
to  do  Ken  stepped  forward. 

"  Mr.  Supervisor,"  he  said,  blandly,  "  I've 
only  come  out  to  have  a  little  vacation  and 
get  some  practical  ideas  on  forestry.  Please 
be  good  enough  to  look  at  my  credentials." 

Ken  handed  over  letters  with  the  Washing- 
ton seal  stamped  on  them,  and  Birch  stared. 
What  was  more  when  he  had  read  the  letters 
his  manner  changed  very  considerably,  and 
he  even  looked  at  me  with  a  shade  of  sur- 
prise. 

"  Oh— yes— Mr.  Ward,  that'll  be  all  right. 


KEN  WARD'S   ARRIVAL   IN  UTAH 

You  see — I — I  only — I've  got  to  be  particular 
about  rangers  and  all  that.  Now  anything 
I  can  do  for  you  I'll  be  glad  to  do." 

Ken's  letters  must  have  been  pretty  strong, 
and  I  was  secretly  pleased  to  see  old  Birch 
taken  down  a  bit.  The  upshot  of  the  matter 
was  that  Ken  got  a  free  hand  in  Coconina,  to 
roam  where  he  liked,  and  spend  what  time  he 
wished  with  the  rangers  on  duty.  We  left 
the  office  highly  pleased. 

"  We'll  go  over  to  the  corral  now  and  look 
over  some  mustangs,"  I  said. 

From  Ken's  face  I  knew  his  thoughts  re- 
verted once  more  to  the  mustang  which  had 
trotted  its  way  into  his  heart.  But  I  said 
nothing.  I  wanted  his  surprise  to  be  com- 
plete. Jim  and  Hal  joined  us,  and  together 
we  walked  down  the  street.  Kanab  was  only 
a  hamlet  of  a  few  stores,  a  church,  a  school, 
and  cottages.  My  lodgings  were  at  a  cottage 
just  at  the  end  of  the  street,  and  here,  back 
of  a  barn,  was  the  corral.  When  we  turned  a 
corner  of  the  barn  there  was  a  black  mustang, 
all  glossy  as  silk,  with  long  mane  flying  and 
shiny  hoofs  lifting  as  he  pranced  around. 
He  certainly  looked  proud.  That,  I  felt  sure, 
ii 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

was  because  of  the  thorough  currying  and 
brushing  I  had  given  him. 

Ken  stopped  stock-still  and  his  eyes  began 
to  bulge.  As  for  the  mustang,  he  actually 
tried  to  climb  over  the  bars.  He  knew  Ken 
before  Ken  knew  him. 

"Oh!  Dick  Leslie!"  exclaimed  Ken. 

Then,  placing  both  hands  on  the  top  bar, 
with  one  splendid  vault  he  cleared  the  gate. 


CHAPTER  II 

WINGS 

TT  did  me  good  to  see  the  way  Ken  Ward 
*  hugged  that  little  black  mustang.  Some- 
how a  ranger  gets  to  have  a  warm  feeling  for 
a  horse.  Now,  Ken's  mustang  remembered 
him,  or  if  he  did  not  he  surely  was  a  most 
deceitful  bit  of  horse-flesh. 

"He's  fine  and  fat — in  great  shape,"  said 
Ken,  rubbing  his  hands  all  over  the  mustang. 
"  He  hasn't  been  worked  much." 

"  Been  down  on  our  winter  range  for  six 
months,"  I  replied.  "  I  had  him  brought  in 
this  morning,  and  after  the  blacksmith  clipped 
and  shod  him  I  took  a  hand  myself." 

"  Ken,  I  want  a  mustang,"  sang  out  Hal. 

He  sat  on  the  top  of  the  corral  fence,  ab- 
sorbed in  the  appearance  and  action  of  Ken's 
mount. 

"  Now,  Kid,  keep  your  shirt  on,"  said  Ken. 
13 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  You'll  get  one.  It's  just  half  an  hour  since 
you  arrived." 

"  That's  long  enough.  Do  you  think  I'm 
going  to  stand  around  here  and  watch  you 
have  a  pony  like  that  and  not  have  one  my- 
self?" 

"  It's  a  mustang,  not  a  pony,"  said  Ken. 

Purcell,  the  owner  of  the  cottage  and 
corrals,  drove  up  at  this  juncture,  and  I 
engaged  him  in  conversation  regarding  a 
mount  for  the  boy  and  the  pack-horses  we 
would  need  on  our  trip. 

"  Wai,  there's  a  bunch  of  mustangs  over 
in  the  waterin'  corral.  Some  good  ones — 
all  pretty  wild.  But  about  pack-hosses — 
that  sort  of  bumps  me,"  said  Purcell,  dubi- 
ously. "I'm  due  to  go  to  Lund  after  grain 
an'  supplies,  an*  I  need  my  regular  packers. 
I'll  let  you  have  one,  an'  the  big  bay  stallion." 

"  You  don't  mean  that  big  brute  Marc?" 
I  queried. 

"  Sure.  He's  all  right,  if  you  handle  him 
easy.'  I  don't  know  as  he'll  stand  for  a  pack- 
saddle — any  kind  of  a  saddle — but  you  might 
load  somethin'  on  him." 

"  If  that's  the  best  you  can  do  we'll  have 

14 


WINGS 

to  take  him,"  I  rejoined.  "  Also  I  want  a 
good  man  to  take  care  of  the  horses  for  the 
boys." 

"  Hire  the  Indian.  He's  here  now,  an'  he's 
the  best  man  to  find  grass  an'  water  in  this 
desert." 

u  You  mean  Navvy?  Yes,  we'd  be  lucky 
to  get  him,  but  Jim  and  Hiram  Bent,  they 
both  hate  Indians." 

"  Leslie,  I  don't  know  of  any  one  else  in  the 
village.  It's  lambin'  time  now,  an'  hands  are 
scarce.  You'd  better  take  the  Indian,  for 
he'll  save  you  lots  of  trampin'  round." 

"I'll  do  it,  Purcell.  We'll  pack  early  in 
the  morning  and  get  a  good  start.  Now, 
take  the  lad  over  to  the  corral  and  get  him  a 
mount." 

"  Come  on,  youngster,"  said  Purcell  to  Hal. 
"  Come  on  an'  let's  see  what  kind  of  an  eye 
you  have  for  a  hoss." 

Hal  leaped  off  the  fence  and  went  with 
Purcell  toward  the  other  corrals.  Jim  started 
to  go  with  them,  but  Ken  detained  him. 

"  Fellows,"  said  Ken,  "  before  we  get  any 
farther  I  want  to  tell  you  about  my  brother. 
He's  simply  as  wild  as  a  March  hare.  I'm 
is 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

not  sure,  but  I  suspect  that  he's  been  reading 
a  lot  of  Wild  West  stuff.  The  folks  at  home 
have  humored  him,  spoiled  him,  I  think. 
Father  is  sort  of  proud  of  Hal.  The  boy  is 
bright,  quick  as  a  steel  trap,  and  just  the 
finest,  squarest  kid  ever.  But  he  has  a  fiendish 
propensity  for  making  trouble,  getting  into 
scrapes.  Now  that  would  be  bad  enough 
back  home,  wouldn't  it?  And  here  I've  had 
to  bring  him  out  West ! ' ' 

"  I  shore  am  glad  you  fetched  him,"  replied 
Jim. 

"I'm  glad,  too,  Jim,  until  I  think  of  Hal's 
peculiarities,  and  then  I'm  scared.  That  kid 
can  hatch  up  more  impossible,  never-heard-of 
situations  than  any  other  kid  on  earth. 
Hal  imagines  he  can  do  anything.  What's 
worse  he's  got  the  nerve  to  try,  and,  to  tell 
you  the  truth,  I've  never  yet  discovered  any- 
thing he  couldn't  do." 

"  Can  he  ride  a  horse?"  I  asked. 

"  Ride!  Say,  he  can  ride  standing  on  his 
head.  Now,  Dick  and  Jim,  I  want  you  to  do 
all  you  can  to  look  after  Hal,  but  understand, 
the  responsibility  for  his  safety  and  welfare 
doesn't  rest  upon  you.  I'll  do  my  best  for 
16 


WINGS 

him;  the  responsibility  rests  upon  me.  Much 
as  I  wanted  Hal  with  me,  I  advised  and 
coaxed  father  not  to  send  him.  But  Dad 
thinks  the  kid  can  do  anything  a  great  deal 
better  than  I.  He  told  me  where  I  could  go 
Hal  could  go.  So  we'll  make  up  our  minds 
to  have  our  hearts  in  our  throats  all  the  time 
on  this  trip  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

Our  attention  was  attracted  by  a  shout 
from  the  other  corral. 

"  Hyar,  Leslie,  come  over,"  called  Pur- 
cell. 

We  crossed  over,  slipped  through  a  couple 
of  gates,  and  edging  round  a  cloud  of  dust  saw 
Hal  in  the  middle  of  a  corral  holding  a  beauti- 
ful mustang  by  the  mane. 

"  Leslie,  the  youngster  has  picked  out 
Wings,  the  worst  pinto  that  ever  came  off 
Buckskin  Mountain,"  declared  Purcell.  "An' 
he  says  he  don't  want  an'  won't  have  any 
other  mustang  here." 

"  Sure!  What  did  I  tell  you,  Dick?  This 
is  where  the  toboggan  starts.  Ha!  Ha!" 
yelled  Ken. 

"  What's  wrong,  Purcell?    That  pinto  looks 
fine  and  dandy,"  I  said. 
17 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  He  is  a  dandy,"  returned  Puicell.  "He's 
a  climber,  an'  he  can  beat  any  boss  on  the 
range.  But  he  can't  be  rid  except  when  he 
wants  to  be  rid.  There's  no  tellin'  when  he's 
liable  to  make  up  his  mind  to  rare.  It's  not 
buckin'  so  much — he's  no  bronch — but  he  just 
runs  wild  when  it  pleases  him,  an'  then  it 
takes  a  Navajo  to  ride  him.  I  say  he's  no 
mount  for  a  tenderfoot." 

During  this  speech  of  Purcell's  I  watched 
Hal  closely,  and  saw  that,  however  he  occupied 
himself  with  Wings'  glossy  mane,  he  heard 
every  word.  And  when  he  glanced  up  I 
believed  that  what  Purcell  said  had  absolutely 
decided  him.  The  lad  looked  keen  to  me, 
and  deep  as  the  sea.  But  he  was  not  fresh  or 
forward,  and  despite  my  uneasiness  I  began 
to  like  him. 

"  Kid,  will  you  take  my  mustang?"  asked 
Ken. 

"  Nix,"  answered  Hal.  "I'm  going  to  ride 
Wings  and  beat  the  life  out  of  you  and  your 
mustang." 

I  sent  Purcell  for  a  saddle,  and  he  fetched 
one  presently  and  put  it  on  Wings. 

"  Youngster,  seein'  as  you  are  set  on  ihe 
id 


WINGS 

pinto,  all-1  right,"  said  Purcell,  as  he  fastened 
the  cinch. 

Then  Hal  looked  straight  at  the  rancher. 

"  Mr.  Purcell,  I've  had  ponies  at  home  and 
I  could  ride  them,"  he  said.  "  But  this '11  be 
new  to  me.  Will  you  give  me  a  few  tips  ? ' ' 

That  pleased  me  immensely.  Whatever 
Hal  was,  he  was  not  a  fool.  I  noticed  Jim 
Williams  wore  an  expression  as  near  akin  to 
excitement  as  it  was  possible  for  that  cool 
Texas  ranger  to  wear.  Perhaps  in  Jim's 
mind,  as  in  mine,  the  lad  was  being  measured. 
Purcell,  too,  appeared  to  like  the  boy's  frank- 
ness. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  kin  give  you  many  tips, " 
he  said.  "  Fact  of  the  matter  is  you  must 
try  to  stick  on,  that's  all.  Just  keep  your 
toes  in  the  stirrups,  so  you  can  git  them  out 
quick.  Then  squeeze  him  with  your  knees 
for  all  you're  worth.  .  .  .  Wait!  Make  sure 
where  you're  going.  .  .  .  There!" 

Hal  sat  firmly  in  the  saddle.  Wings 
champed  the  bit  and  turned  his  head,  then 
shook  it,  and  suddenly  lifting  his  hind  hoofs 
he  kicked  viciously.  We  scattered  and 
climbed  the  corral  fence.  When  we  turned 
19 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

round  the  pinto  had  come  down  on  all  fours 
and  squared  himself.  With  head  down, 
humping  his  back,  he  proceeded  to  buck  with 
startling  quickness,  and  tossed  Hal  like  a  feath- 
er. The  boy  hit  the  ground  with  a  thud,  and 
slowly  got  up,  considerably  shaken.  Then  he 
went  up  to  the  mustang,  now  standing  quietly. 

Quite  a  little  crowd  of  villagers,  mostly 
boys,  had  collected  to  see  the  fun,  and  some 
of  the  latter  were  inclined  to  make  remarks 
at  Hal's  expense.  One  of  them,  a  boy  I  knew 
to  be  a  rascal,  poked  his  head  between  the 
bars  of  a  gate,  and  yelled  derisively  at  Hal, 
to  the  immense  delight  of  the  other  lads. 
Hal  eyed  him  a  moment,  but  he  did  not  say 
anything.  This  made  the  fellow  all  the  bolder, 
for  he  climbed  the  fence,  from  which  he  directed 
more  remarks. 

"  Mr.  Purcell,"  said  Hal  to  the  rancher,  "  I 
hadn't  got  ready  that  time.  I  wasn't  ex- 
pecting it.  Now  how  must  I  treat  him?  My 
way  at  home  was  to  coax  a  pony,  be  decent 
to  him." 

"  It'll  pay  best  in  the  end  to  be  decent  to 
a  hoss,"  replied  Purcell.  "  Be  kind,  but 
firm,  an'  use  your  spurs." 

20 


WINGS 

"  I  haven't  any  spurs;   I  never  used  any." 

"  You'll  need  them  out  here." 

Hal  mounted  the  pinto  again.  Wings 
wheeled  about,  pranced,  stood  up  pawing  the 
air,  snorted,  and  then,  dropping  down,  he 
began  to  run  round  the  corral.  He  zigzagged 
against  the  fence,  and  slowing  down  he  took 
short  jumps,  kicking  at  the  same  time.  Then 
he  squared  himself  again  and  lowered  his  head. 

"  Look  out,  Kid!"  yelled  Ken. 

We  all  shouted  warnings.  Hal  was  pre- 
pared, and  for  the  space  of  a  few  seconds, 
while  the  bucking  pinto  pounded  a  dusty  circle 
in  the  corral,  he  kept  his  seat.  But  a  new 
move,  a  sort  of  side-stepping  buck,  flung  him 
against  the  fence,  and  he  fell  all  in  a  heap. 
It  was  a  hard  fall,  but  the  boy  got  up.  A 
lump  began  to  show  on  his  chin,  and  blood; 
his  knuckles,  too,  were  bloody. 

"  Lookie  here,  Redhead,"  called  out  the 
smart  youngster  who  was  amusing  his  com- 
rades by  making  fun  of  Hal.  "  Can't  you  ride 
no  better 'n  that?  Haw!  Haw!  You  can't 
ride  or  nothin ' ,  Redhead !  Redhead ! ' ' 

"  Say,  Johnny,  can  you  ride  him?"  asked 
Hal,  coolly. 

31 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Yep,  you  bet." 

vt  Come  down  and  let  me  see  you  do  it.  I 
don't  believe  you." 

Johnny  eyed  Hal  rather  doubtfully.  Hal 
looked  very  much  interested,  very  friendly, 
but  his  eyes  were  cold  and  hard.  The  Western 
lad  hesitated,  and  finally  driven  to  it  by  the 
bantering  of  the  other  lads,  he  dropped  off 
the  fence.  Vaulting  into  the  saddle,  he  rode 
Wings  round  the  corral,  kept  his  seat  easily 
while  the  pinto  went  through  his  tricks,  and 
altogether  gave  an  exhibition  of  riding  which 
would  have  made  most  any  Eastern  lad  green 
with  envy. 

"  You  did  ride  him.  I  was  wrong.  I 
thought  you  couldn't,"  said  Hal,  walking 
slowly  up  to  Johnny  as  he  dismounted. 
"  You're  a  crack  horseman." 

Suddenly  Hal  leaped  at  the  fellow,  and  at  the 
same  moment  Ken  yelled  and  tumbled  off 
the  fence.  I  was  too  amazed  to  move.  Jim 
Williams 's  mouth  gaped  and  he  stared  in 
speechless  delight. 

Hal  had  the  youngster  jammed  against  the 
fence  and  was  banging  him. 

"  You  called  me  redhead   and  tenderfoot 


WINGS 

and  sloppy  rider! ' '  cried  Hal,  swinging  his  fists. 

Then  Ken  reached  them,  pulled  Hal  away, 
and  rescued  the  already  bewildered  and 
bloody-nosed  lad. 

"  Dick,  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it,"  said  Ken, 
leading  the  lad  out  at  the  gate.  "The  minute 
Hal  asked  that  boy  to  ride  the  mustang  I 
knew  what  was  up.  I  couldn't  say  a  word. 
Hal  always  makes  me  speechless." 

Williams  was  shaking  so  that  he  rattled  the 
top  bar  of  the  corral,  and  Purcell  roared.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  the  shame  and  distress  in 
Ken's  face  I  would  have  yelled  myself.  For 
that  bantering  youngster  had  long  ago  earned 
my  dislike,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  him  get  a 
little  of  his  just  deserts. 

Then  I  saw  Hal  look  through  the  fence  at 
all  the  strange  lads.  He  was  certainly  the 
coolest  piece  of  audacity  I  ever  saw. 

"  I  wasn't  born  in  a  saddle,  see?"  he  said. 
"  At  that  I'll  bet  in  a  month  I  can  ride  with 
any  of  you.  But  there's  one  thing  I  can  do 
right  now — so  don't  any  of  you  call  me  red- 
head again." 

"  Hal,  shut  up,  and  come  out  of  there," 
called  Ken. 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  Not  on  your  life,"  replied  Hal,  promptly. 
"I'm  going  to  ride  this  iron- jawed  mustang 
or — or — " 

Hal  did  not  complete  the  sentence,  but  his 
look  was  expressive  enough. 

Jim  Williams  leisurely  dropped  off  the  fence 
into  the  corral.  While  removing  his  spurs  he 
looked  up  at  Ken,  and  his  eyes  twinkled. 

"  See  here,  Ken,  you're  doin'  a  powerful  lot 
of  fussin'  about  this  kid  brother.  You  leave 
him  to  me." 

That  from  Williams  occasioned  me  im- 
measurable relief,  and  though  Ken  still  looked 
doubtful  there  was  much  gladness  and  grati- 
tude in  his  surprised  glance. 

Jim  sauntered  over  toward  the  center  of  the 
corral,  swinging  his  spurs. 

'"Kid,  I  reckon  you  an*  me  had  better 
strike  up  a  pardnership  in  ridin'  pintoes,  an* 
all  sich little  matters  appertainin'to  the  range. " 

Jim  changed  the  strap  lengths  on  his  spurs 
and  handed  them  to  Hal. 

"  Put  these  on, "  he  said.  "  I  reckon  they're 
too  long  for  you,  an'  mebbe  11  trip  you  up 
when  you  walk.  But  they're  what  you  need 
on  horseback," 

24 


WINGS 

Hal  adjusted  the  spurs,  and  took  a  few 
awkward  steps,  digging  up  the  ground  with 
the  big  rowels. 

"They'll  be  as  hard  on  me  as  on  the  pony/' 
he  said. 

Jim  captured  Wings,  and  tightened  saddle- 
girths,  shortened  stirrups,  and,  slipping  off 
the  bridle,  let  the  pinto  go. 

"Now,  kid,  listen.  These  Western  hosses 
an'  mustangs  can  size  up  a  man,  an'  take  ad- 
vantage of  him.  You've  got  to  be  half  hoss 
yourself  to  know  all  their  tricks.  The  trouble 
with  you  jest  now  was  thet  Wings  seen  you 
was  scared  of  him.  You  mustn't  let  a  hoss 
see  that.  You  must  be  natural,  easy,  an' 
firm.  You  must  be  master.  Take  the  bridle 
an'  go  up  to  Wings,  on  the  left  side.  Never 
again  try  to  straddle  a  hoss  from  the  right 
side.  Don't  coax  him,  an'  don't  yell  at  him. 
If  you  say  anythin',  mean  bizness.  When  you 
get  him  in  a  corner  go  right  up,  not  too  quick 
or  too  slow,  an'  reach  out  to  put  on  the  bridle 
as  if  you'd  done  it  all  your  life.  When  you 
get  it  on  draw  the  reins  back  over  his  head 
reasonable  tight  an'  hold  them  with  your  left 
hand,  at  the  same  time  takin'  a  good  grip  on 
25 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

his  mane.  Turn  the  stirrup  an'  slip  your  left 
toe  in,  grab  the  pommel  with  right  hand,  an* 
swing  up.  Start  him  off  then  an'  let  him 
know  who's  boss.  If  he  wants  to  go  one  way 
make  him  go  the  other.  Don't  be  afraid  to 
stick  the  spurs  into  him.  You're  too  gentle 
with  a  hoss.  Thet'll  never  do  in  this  country. 
These  sage-brush  hosses  ain't  Eastern  hosses. 
Make  up  your  mind  to  ride  him  now.  He'll 
see  it.  An'  if  he  bucks  soak  him  with  the 
spurs  till  he  stops  or  throws  you.  An'  if 
he  throws  you  get  up  an'  go  after  him 
again." 

"All    right,"    replied    Hal,    soberly.     And 
picking  up  the  bridle  he  went  toward  Wings. 

The  pinto  squared  around  and  eyed  Hal  as 
curiously  as  if  he  had  actually  heard  the  ad- 
vice tendered  by  the  Texan.  Probably  he 
heard  the  clinking  spurs  and  knew  what  they 
meant.  With  a  snort  he  jumped  and  began 
to  run  round  the  corral.  Hal  slowly  closed 
in  on  him,  and  at  length  got  him  in  a  corner. 
And  here  Hal  showed  that  he  could  obey 
coaching  as  readily  as  Ken.  Walking  di- 
rectly up  to  the  pinto,  he  bridled  him,  and 
with  quick,  decisive  action  leaped  astride. 
36 


WINGS 

Then  he  spurred  Wings.  The  pinto  bolted, 
and  in  his  plunging  scattered  dust  and  gravel. 
Not  liking  the  spurs,  he  settled  into  a  run. 
Hal  was  now  more  at  ease  in  the  saddle.  It 
was  not  so  much  confidence  as  desperation. 
Perhaps  the  shortened  stirrups  helped  him  to 
a  firmer  leg-hold.  At  any  rate,  he  rode  grace- 
fully and  appeared  to  good  advantage.  He 
pulled  Wings,  and  when  the  fiery  pinto  snorted 
and  tossed  his  head  and  preferred  his  own  way 
a  touch  of  spur  made  him  turn  round.  In 
this  manner  Hal  ran  Wings  along  the  corral 
fence,  across  the  open  space,  to  and  fro,  suc- 
cessfully turning  him  at  will.  Then  as  he  let 
up  the  pinto  wheeled  and  spread  his  legs  and 
tried  to  get  his  head  down. 

"Hold  him  up!"  yelled  Purcell. 

"  Now's  the  time,  kid!"  added  Jim  Williams. 
"Soak  him  with  the  spurs!" 

Hal  could  not  keep  the  pinto  from  getting 
his  head  down  or  from  beginning  to  buck,  but 
he  managed  to  use  the  long  spurs.  That 
made  a  difference.  It  broke  Wing's  action. 
He  did  not  seem  to  be  able  to  get  to  going. 
He  had  to  break  and  bolt,  then  square  him- 
self again,  and  try  to  buck, 
27 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Stick  on,  Hal!"  I  yelled.  "If  you  stay 
with  him  now  you'll  have  him  beat." 

We  all  yelled,  and  Ken  Ward  danced  around 
in  great  danger  of  being  ridden  down  by  the 
furious  pinto.  Like  a  burr  Hal  stuck  on. 
There  were  moments  when  he  wabbled  in  the 
saddle,  lurched  one  way  and  then  another,  and 
again  bounced  high.  Once  we  made  sure  it 
was  to  be  a  victory  for  the  pinto,  but  Hal 
luckily  and  wonderfully  regained  his  seat. 
And  after  that  by  degrees  he  appeared  to  get 
a  surer,  easier  swing,  while  Wings  grew  tired  of 
bucking  and  more  tired  of  being  spurred. 

Purcell  jumped  into  the  corral  and  began  to 
throw  down  the  bars  of  the  gate. 

"Kid,  run  him  out  now!"  shouted  Jim. 
"Drive  him  good  an'  hard!  Make  him  see 
who's  boss!" 

Wings  did  not  want  to  leave  the  corral, 
and  Hal,  in  pulling  him,  lifted  him  off  his  fore- 
feet. Another  touch  of  spurs  sent  the  pinto 
through  the  gate.  Hal  spurred  him  down  the 
road. 

We  watched  Wings  going  faster  and  faster, 
gradually  settling  into  an  even  gait,  till  he  was 
on  a  dead  run. 

28 


WINGS 

"Thet  pinto  has  wings,  all  right,"  remarked 
Jim.  "Purcell  named  him  some  ways  near 
right.  An'  between  us  the  kid's  no  slouch  in 
the  saddle.  He  won't  have  thet  little  fire- 
eat  in'  hoss  broke  all  in  a  minnit,  but  he'll  be 
able  to  ride  him.  An'  thet'U  let  us  hit  the 
trail.'! 


CHAPTER  III 

OFF   FOR   COCONINA 

THE  Navajo  Indian  whom  I  had  engaged 
through  Purcell  did  not  show  up  till  we 
were  packing  next  morning.  He  was  a  copper- 
skinned,  raven-haired,  beady-eyed  desert  sav- 
age. When  Ken  and  Hal  had  finished  break- 
fast I  called  them  out  of  the  cottage  to  meet 
him. 

"  Here,  boys,  shake  hands  with  Navvy. 
Here,  Navvy,  shake  with  heap  big  brother — 
heap  little  brother." 

"  Me  savvy,"  said  the  Indian,  extending 
his  hand  to  Ken.  "  How." 

Then  he  turned  to  Hal.     ' '  How. ' ' 

Hal,  following  Ken,  gingerly  shook  hands 
with  Navvy.  From  the  look  of  the  lad  he 
was  all  at  sea,  and  plainly  disappointed.  No 
doubt  in  his  mind  dwelt  images  and  fancies 
of  picturesque  plumed  Indians,  such  as  he 
had  evolved  from  Western  tales.  Indeed 
30 


OFF    FOR    COCONINA 

Navvy  would  have  been  a  disappointment 
to  a  most  unromantic  boy,  let  alone  one  as 
imaginative  and  full  of  wild  ideas  as  Hal  was. 
Navvy's  slouch  hat  and  torn  shirt  and  blue 
jeans,  some  white  man's  cast-off  apparel, 
were  the  things  that  disillusioned  Hal.  And 
I  saw  that  he  turned  once  more  to  his  pinto. 
A  new  saddle  and  bridle,  spurs,  chaps,  lasso, 
canteen,  quirt,  a  rifle  and  a  scabbard,  and  a 
slicker — these  with  spirited  Wings  were  all- 
satisfying  and  gave  him  back  his  enchantment. 

"  Where'll  the  Indian  ride?"  asked  Purcell. 

"  Why,  he  can  climb  on  the  stallion,"  I 
replied. 

Purcell 's  stallion  Marc  was  a  magnificent 
bay,  very  heavy  and  big-boned.  We  had 
strapped  a  blanket  on  him  and  roped  some 
sacks  of  oats  over  that.  The  other  pack- 
horses  were  loaded  with  all  they  could  carry. 

"  He  can  climb  on,  I  reckon,  but  he'll  darn 
soon  git  off,"  remarked  Purcell,  dryly. 

•"  Then  hell  have  to  walk,"  I  rejoined. 

"  That'll  be  best,"  said  Purcell,  much  re- 
lieved.    "  Leslie,  have  a  care  of  Marc.     You'll 
strike  some  all-fired  bad  trails  in  the  Canon, 
where  many  a  hoss  has  slipped  an'  gone  over. 
3* 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Don't  drive  Marc  or  pull  him.  Just  coax 
him  a  little." 

"  All  right,  Purcell.  We'll  be  careful.  .  .  . 
Now,  boys.  We're  late  starting,  and  it's 
thirty  miles  to  the  first  water." 

I  led  the  train,  driving  our  pack-horses 
before  me.  Navvy  came  next,  leading  Marc. 
Ken  was  third,  and  Jim,  with  a  watchful  eye 
on  Hal  and  the  pinto,  brought  up  the  rear. 

The  few  miles  of  good  road  between  Kanab 
and  Fredonia,  another  little  hamlet,  we  made 
at  a  jog-trot,  doing  the  distance  in  something 
over  an  hour.  Outside  of  Fredonia  we  hit 
the  trail,  and  went  down  and  down  into  the 
red  washes,  and  over  the  sage-speckled  flats. 
It  grew  dusty  and  hot.  About  noon  we 
reached  the  first  slow  roll  of  rising  ridge,  and 
from  there  on  it  was  climb.  More  than  once 
I  looked  back,  and  more  than  once  I  saw  Hal 
having  trouble  with  his  pinto.  Once  Wings, 
as  if  he  really  had  wings,  flew  off  across  a  flat, 
and  spilled  Hal  into  the  sage.  Navvy  got 
tired  walking  and  climbed  up  on  the  grain- 
sacks  on  Marc,  but  he  did  not  stay  there  very 
long.  Then  my  pack-horse  made  trouble  for 
me  by  shying  at  a  rattlesnake  and  getting  off 
32 


OFF    FOR    COCONINA 

the  trail.  The  time  passed  swiftly,  as  it 
always  passed  when  we  were  on  the  move,  and 
we  reached  the  first  cedars  about  three  o'clock. 
Here  I  saw  that  our  train  was  stretched  out 
over  a  mile  in  length.  Navvy  was  having  a 
little  ride  on  Marc,  but  Ken  limped  along 
before  his  mustang,  and  Hal  changed  from 
side  to  side,  from  leg  to  leg,  in  his  saddle. 
The  boys  were  beginning  to  show  soreness 
from  riding. 

The  sun  had  set  when  we  made  the  head  of 
Nail  Gulch.  Here  a  spring  and  a  cabin 
awaited  us,  also  a  little  browse  for  the  horses. 

"  I've  got  a  lame  knee,  all  right,"  remarked 
Ken.  "  Thought  I  was  in  good  shape. " 

"  No  matter  how  hard  you  are  it'll  take 
three  days  or  more  to  break  you  in,"  I  said. 

Hal  came  straggling  along  behind  Jim.  He 
fell  off  his  pinto  and  just  flopped  over  against 
a  cedar. 

"  Gee!  but  ain't  it  great!  Ken,  look  at 
those  cliffs!" 

"  Wait  a  couple  of  days,  Hal.  Then  I'll 
show  you  some  cliffs,"  I  said. 

It  took  Jim  and  me  only  a  little  time  to 
unpack,  build  a  fire  in  the  cabin,  bake  bis- 
33 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

cuits,  and  get  a  good  supper.  Navvy  led 
the  horses  to  water,  hobbled  them  and  turned 
them  loose.  Then  we  had  our  meal.  Ken 
and  Hal  were  supremely  happy,  but  too  tired 
to  be  jolly.  Darkness  found  them  both  asleep, 
and  Hal  threshed  about  as  if  he  were  having 
wild  dreams. 

At  daybreak  Navvy  awakened  me  coming 
in  with  the  horses.  It  began  to  appear  that 
the  Indian  would  be  a  welcome  addition  to 
our  party.  Finding  the  horses  in  the  morning 
was  work  for  me,  and  sometimes  long  and 
arduous  work.  And  Jim,  rolling  out  of  his 
blanket  and  blinking  his  eyes,  drawled:  "  Wai, 
pretty  fair  for  an  Injun,  pretty  fair!" 

The  boys  heard  us,  and  roused  themselves, 
bright  and  eager,  though  so  stiff  they  could 
scarcely  stand  erect.  In  an  hour  we  had 
breakfasted,  packed,  and  were  in  the  saddle. 
This  morning  Wings  did  not  seem  to  be  so 
frisky. 

"  Boys,  to-day  will  be  a  drill  and  no  mis- 
take," I  told  them.  "  Ride  as  long  as  you 
can  stand  it,  then  walk  a  bit.  .  .  .  Here! 
Look  over  the  far  side  of  the  gulch.  See  that 
long  black-fringed  line  with  the  patches  of 

34 


OFF    FOR    COCONINA 

snow?  That's  Buckskin  Mountain.  To-night 
well  camp  under  the  pines.  And  Ken,  there 're 
pine-trees  on  Buckskin  that  dwarf  those  in 
Penetier." 

We  struck  out  into  the  trail,  and  then  began 
a  long,  tedious,  uninteresting  ride.  Nail  Gulch 
was  narrow,  and  shut  in  the  view.  Low  bare 
stone  walls  and  cedar  slopes  extended  for 
miles  and  miles.  It  was  a  gradual  ascent  all 
the  way,  but  this  did  not  grow  perceptible 
until  about  noon.  I  laughed  to  see  Ken  and 
Hal  fall  off.  their  saddles,  hobble  along  for  a 
while,  then  wearily  mount  again,  presently  to 
repeat  the  performance.  The  air  grew  cooler, 
making  gloves  comfortable.  About  three 
o'clock  the  gulch  began  to  lose  its  walls,  and 
we  reached  the  first  pines.  They  were  not 
large,  and  straggled  over  the  widening  gulch, 
but  as  we  climbed  the  trail  they  grew  more 
numerous.  The  early  shades  of  night  envel- 
oped us  as  we  rode  out  of  the  gulch  into  the 
level  forest. 

Here  and  there  patches  of  snow  gleamed 

through  the  gloom.     This  solved  the  question 

of  water,   and  we  made  camp  at  once.     A 

blazing  fire  soon  warmed  us.    We  had  a  hearty 

35 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

supper  of  bacon,  hot  biscuits,  coffee,  and 
canned  vegetables.  Ken  and  Hal  were  so 
tired  and  sore  that  they  could  scarcely  move, 
but  that  did  not  affect  their  appetites.  Then 
we  sat  around  the  camp-fire. 

By  this  time  the  forest  was  black  and  the 
wind  roared  through  the  pines.  It  was  not 
new  to  Ken,  but  Hal  showed  what  it  meant  to 
him.  I  fancied  him  even  more  sensitive  to 
impressions  than  Ken,  but  he  was  not  so  apt 
to  express  his  feelings.  In  fact  Hal  seemed 
a  silent  lad,  or  else  he  had  not  yet  found  his 
tongue.  Wonderful  thoughts,  I  knew,  were 
teeming  in  his  mind.  His  big  eyes  glowed. 
He  watched  the  camp-fire,  and  looked  out  into 
the  dark  gloom  of  the  forest,  and  then  back 
at  Jim,  then  at  the  impassive  Nava  jo.  He  listen- 
ed to  the  wind  and  to  the  bells  on  the  horses. 

"  Where's  our  tent?"  he  asked,  suddenly. 

"  We  don't  use  no  tents,"  replied  Jim. 
"  We  spread  a  tarp — " 

"What's  that?" 

"  Why,  a  tarpaulin,  you  know,  a  big  piece 
of  canvas.     Wai,  we  spread  one  of  them  on 
the  ground,  roll  in  our  blankets,  an'  pull  the 
Other  end  of  the  tarp  up  over," 
36 


OFF    FOR    COCONINA 

Then  a  little  while  afterward  Hal  broke 
silence  again. 

"  I  hear  something;  what  is  it?"  he  asked, 
breathlessly,  starting  up. 

We  all  listened  while  the  fire  sputtered.  A 
lull  came  in  the  roar  of  the  wind  through  the 
pines,  and  then  from  far  off  in  the  forest  a  wild, 
high-pitched  yelp. 

"  Kid,  that's  a  coyote,"  replied  Ken,  slap- 
ping Hal  on  the  knee.  "  Don't  you  remember 
I  told  you  about  coyotes?  .  .  .  Listen!" 

Hal  said  no  more  that  evening,  yet  when  I 
was  sleepy  and  ready  to  turn  in  he  still  sat  up, 
alert,  watchful,  intent  on  the  strangeness  and 
wildness  of  the  forest.  It  was  a  treat  to  see 
him  when  Navvy  rolled  in  a  blanket  with  feet 
to  the  fire. 

"  Sleepie — me,"  said  the  Indian. 

That  was  his  good-night  to  us. 

Ken  shared  my  blankets  and  tarpaulin  that 
night  and  slept  without  turning  once.  When 
the  gray  dawn  came  I  was  up  lighting  a  fire. 
Jim  yawned  out  of  his  bed,  and  both  boys 
slept  on.  The  morning  was  cold.  A  white 
frost  silvered  the  scant  grass.  Presently  I 
heard  bells  far  off;  they  grew  louder  and. 
37 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

quickened.  Soon  the  horses  appeared  with 
the  Navajo  riding  one,  and  they  trooped  into 
camp  with  thudding  hoofs  and  jangling  bells. 
That  woke  the  boys. 

"  Rustle,  now,  Kid,"  said  Jim  to  Hal. 
"  You'll  miss  somethin'  if  you  ain't  lively." 

"Oh,  I'm  all  stove  up!"  exclaimed  Ken. 
"  Whew!  but  that's  cold  air!  How  about 
you,  Hal?" 

"  I  feel  great,"  rejoined  his  brother.  We  all 
saw  that  Hal  could  hardly  get  out  of  bed, 
that  when  he  did  get  out  it  was  a  desperate 
task  for  him  to  draw  on  his  boots. 

"  Where's  some  water  to  wash  in?"  he  asked. 

"  Tackle  the  snow-drift  there." 

I  meant  for  Hal  to  get  a  pan  of  snow  and 
melt  it  at  the  fire,  but  he  misunderstood  me. 
He  tackled  the  snow  barehanded.  It  had  a 
frozen  crust  which  he  could  not  break  through, 
so  he  kicked  a  hole  in  it,  and  then  digging  out 
a  double  handful  he  proceeded  to  wash.  That 
operation  was  one  which  required  fortitude. 
Hal  never  murmured,  but  he  hurried  to  the 
fire  in  a  way  to  make  Jim  wink  slyly  at  me. 

When  the  sun  rose  we  were  on  the  trail. 
We  passed  the  zone  of  silver  spruces,  rode 
38 


OFF    FOR    COCONINA 

through  a  long  aspen  hollow,  and  then  out 
among  the  brown  aisles  of  great  pines  of 
Buckskin  Forest. 

"Oh!  Ken,  I  never  saw  a  woods  before!" 
was  Hal's  tribute. 

"  Boys,  keep  your  eyes  peeled  for  deer  and 
coyotes,"  I  said. 

It  was  my  intention  to  lead  Ken  and  Hal 
to  the  rim  of  the  Grand  Canon  without  warn- 
ing. I  wanted  the  great  spectacle  to  burst 
upon  them  unexpectedly  as  it  had  upon  me. 
So  I  said  nothing  about  it.  Ken  was  in  a 
dream,  perhaps  living  over  again  his  adven- 
tures in  Penetier.  Hal  was  suffering  from  his 
raw  legs  and  sore  joints,  but  he  was  in  an 
ecstasy  over  the  huge  gnarled  pines  and  the 
wild  glades.  Both  boys  had  forgotten  the 
Canon.  So  I  rode  on,  pleased  at  the  thought 
of  what  it  all  was  to  them.  The  sun  thawed 
the  frost,  letting  the  bluebells  peep  out  of 
the  grass. 

"  There's  a  black  squirrel  with  a  white  tail," 
shouted  Hal 

"  Kid,  don't  ever  yell  in  the  forest  unless 
it's  a  yelling  matter,"  said  Ken. 

We  flushed  blue  grouse  in   some  of  the 

4  39 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

hollows,  but  saw  no  sign  of  deer.  It  was  easy 
going  and  we  made  fast  time.  About  noon 
I  called  into  requisition  a  little  ruse  I  had 
planned  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  boys 
from  the  trail  ahead.  I  told  them  to  look 
sharp  for  deer  on  both  sides.  In  this  way, 
leaving  the  trail  and  keeping  behind  the  thicker 
clumps  of  pines,  I  approached  the  Canon 
without  their  suspecting  its  nearness.  Then, 
rounding  a  thicket  of  juniper,  within  twenty 
yards  of  the  rim  I  called  out: 
"Boys!  Look!" 


CHAPTER  IV 

THROUGH  BUCKSKIN  FOREST 

OTRONG  men,  when  suddenly  confronted 
^  with  the  spectacle  of  the  Grand  Canon,  have 
been  known  to  cry  out  in  joy  or  fear,  to  weep, 
to  fall  upon  their  knees,  or  to  be  petrified  into 
silence.  Serious  -  minded  men  have  been 
known  to  laugh  immoderately.  Sight  of  the 
Canon  affects  no  two  persons  alike,  but  there 
are  none  whom  it  does  not  affect  powerfully. 
I  paid  my  own  moment's  tribute  of  solemn 
awe,  and  then  I  glanced  at  the  boys. 

Ken  looked  stunned  and  white,  his  throat 
swelling  with  emotion.  Hal's  face  shone  with 
a  radiant  glow  of  wild  joy,  and  for  a  moment 
he  stuttered,  then  as  Ken  burst  into  an  ex- 
clamation, he  lapsed  into  stony  silence. 

"  Wonderful!  Beautiful!  It's  —  it's  — " 
That  was  all  Ken  could  say. 

"  It  shore  is,"  replied  Jim. 

Then  I  told  the  boys  that  the  Grand  Canon 
of  Arizona  was  over  two  hundred  miles  long, 
41 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

twelve  to  twenty  wide,  and  a  mile  and  a  half 
deep.  It  was  a  Titanic  gorge  in  which  moun- 
tains, table-lands,  chasms  and  cliffs  lay  buried 
in  purple  haze,  a  thing  of  wonder  and  mystery, 
beyond  any  other  a  place  to  grip  the  heart  of 
a  man.  It  had  the  strange  power  to  make  him 
at  once  meek  and  then  to  unleash  his  daring 
spirit. 

"The  world's  split!"  exckimed  Hal. 
"  What  made  this — this  awful  hole?" 

"We'll  talk  of  that  and  study  it  after  you 
have  seen  something  of  its  heights  and  depths, ' ' 
I  replied. 

At  our  feet  yawned  a  blue  gulf  with  faint 
tracings  of  cedared  slope  and  shining  cliff 
visible  through  the  noonday  haze.  Farther 
out  a  dark-purple  canon  wended  its  irregular 
ragged  way  to  vanish  in  space.  Still  farther 
out  rose  bare  peaks  and  domes  and  mesas  all 
asleep  in  the  sunshine.  Beyond  these  towered 
a  gigantic  plateau,  rugged  and  bold  in  outline, 
its  granite  walls  gold  in  the  sun,  its  forest 
covering  a  strip  of  fringed  black.  It  stood 
aloof  from  the  towers  and  escarpments,  de- 
tached from  the  world  of  rock,  haunting  in  its 
isolation  and  wild  promise. 
42 


THROUGH    BUCKSKIN    FOREST 

"  Boys,  there's  the  plateau,  where  the 
cougars  are,"  I  said.  "  You  see  way  down 
to  the  left  under  the  wall  where  a  dip  of  ground 
connects  the  plateau  to  the  mainland ?  That's 
the  Saddle.  Hiram  Bent  is  there  with  his 
hounds  waiting  for  us." 

"  How  on  earth  will  we  ever  get  there?" 
queried  Ken. 

"  There  are  two  trails.     One  leads  down 

•v 

over  the  rim  here,  the  other  round  through 
the  forest.  We'll  take  the  forest  trail,  for  the 
lower  one  is  not  safe  for  you  boys  till  you  get 
broken  in.  Come  now,  we  can  make  the 
Saddle  before  dark  if  we  plug  along." 

With  that  I  led  off  into  the  forest,  and,  what 
with  finding  the  seldom-used  trail,  and  keeping 
the  pack-horses  in  it,  I  had  no  time  to  see  how 
the  boys  fared  or  what  they  did.  I  knew  that 
both  were  finding  riding  most  painful,  and 
yet  were  enjoying  themselves  hugely.  It  was 
a  long  roundabout  way  to  get  to  the  Saddle. 
For  the  most  part  the  trail  led  up  and  down 
the  heads  of  many  hollows.  So  steep  were 
the  slopes  that  we  had  to  zigzag  down  and  up. 
Then  the  thickets  of  prickly-thorn  and  scrub- 
oak  and  black-sage  were  obstacles  to  swift 

43 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

traveling.  One  thing  I  discovered,  and  it 
was  that  the  stallion  Marc  was  the  best  horse  I 
had  ever  seen  on  a  trail.  He  would  not  carry 
the  Indian,  but  he  led  the  way  for  us  and 
made  a  path  through  the  thickets.  The  sun 
was  yet  an  hour  above  the  southwest  rim 
when  I  reached  the  head  of  the  hollow  where 
the  trail  turned  down  to  the  Saddle.  From 
a  shallow  ravine  with  grassy  and  thicketed 
slopes  it  deepened  and  widened  till  it  was  a 
canon  itself  with  looming  yellow  walls.  It 
became  deeper  and  deeper  and  then  turning 
to  the  left  it  opened  out  into  a  wide  space  under 
the  magnificent  wall  of  the  plateau.  Here 
I  smelled  fire  and  presently  saw  the  gleam  of 
a  white  tent  and  then  a  column  of  blue  smoke. 
The  short,  sharp  bark  of  a  hound  rang  out. 
I  stopped  and  waited  for  Ken  to  catch  up 
with  me.  He  came  along  on  foot,  limping  and 
leading  his  mustang. 

"  Cheer  up,  Ken, "  I  said/ '  we're  almost  there. " 
"I'm  cheerful,  Dick.  I'm  supremely  happy, 
but  I'm  all  in.  And  as  for  Hal,  why,  Jim  and 
I  had  to  lift  him  in  his  saddle  more  times  than 
I  can  remember.  Dick,  what 're  you  doing 
to  us,  anyway?" 

44 


THROUGH    BUCKSKIN    FOREST 

"  You'll  be  fine  in  a  couple  of  days.  I 
wanted  to  get  on  the  ground.  There's  Hal. 
Come  along,  Hal,  you're  doing  well.  We're 
almost  there." 

"  Dick,  I  hear  a  hound,"  said  Ken,  eagerly. 
"  Hurry  up!  There's  smoke,  too.  ...  Ah! 
I  see  Hiram!" 

The  first  sight  of  the  old  bear  hunter  feeding 
his  hounds  under  a  tree  was  a  joy  to  Ken 
Ward.  I  saw  it  in  his  sparkling  eyes  and 
heard  it  in  his  exultant  voice.  Soon  we  rode 
through  the  last  thicket  of  brush  into  camp. 
The  hounds  barked  furiously  until  quieted 
by  Hiram. 

Ken,  despite  his  crippled  condition,  got  to 
the  hunter  in  quick  time,  and  there  was  a  warm 
greeting  between  them. 

"  Youngster,  the  Lord  is  good.  I  hevn't 
been  so  glad  about  anythin'  in  years  as  I  am 
about  seein'  you.  .  .  .  Wai,  you  have  im- 
proved a  heap." 

Hal  came  forward  with  the  same  searching, 
luminous  gaze  which  he  had  turned  upon  the 
Navajo.  This  time,  however,  the  boy  did  not 
meet  with  disappointment.  Any  lad  would 
istve  been  fascinated  with  the  splendid  pjres- 
45 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

ence  of  the  old  hunter.  And  Hal  was  more 
than  fascinated.  Plain  it  was  that  Hiram's 
great  stature,  the  flashing  gray  eyes,  and  the 
stern,  weather-beaten  face,  his  buckskin  shirt, 
and  aH  about  him,  realized  the  idea  Hal  had 
formed  in  his  boyish  thoughts. 

"  Wai,  dog-gone  my  buttons!"  said  Hiram, 
offering  an  enormous  hand  to  Hal.  "  Ken's 
brother!  I've  heerd  of  you,  now  don't  you 
forget  thet.  I'm  mighty  glad  to  meet  you. " 

The  shadow  of  the  plateau  crept  out  to  us 
and  shaded  the  camp.  The  sun  was  setting. 
We  were  down  a  thousand  feet  under  the  rim, 
so  that  we  looked  up  at  the  plateau,  and  also 
at  the  peaks  and  towers  and  escarpments  to 
the  west.  These  were  capped  with  pink  and 
gold  and  red,  and  every  moment  the  colors 
changed.  While  I  was  unpacking  I  heard 
Hiram  ask  Jim  why  on  earth  we  had  fetched 
that  "  tarnal  redskin  "  with  us,  and  Jim's 
reply  was  one  that  left  no  doubt  about 
his  idea  of  Indians.  Both  Hiram  and  Jim 
carried  somewhere  about  in  their  anatomies 
leaden  bullets  which  sometimes  painfully  re- 
minded them  that  they  had  a  grudge  against 
Indians. 

46 


THROUGH    BUCKSKIN    FOREST 

After  sunset  darkness  settled  quickly  below 
the  Canon  rim,  and  it  was  night  long  before 
we  were  through  with  supper.  Then  came 
the  quiet,  cheerful  hour  around  the  camp-fire, 
which  I  foresaw  was  to  be  a  source  of  unalloyed 
bliss  to  Ken  and  Hal. 

Hiram  did  not  appear  to  be  in  any  hurry 
to  talk  about  cougars,  but  he  was  keenly 
interested  in  Ken's  year  at  college,  and  espe- 
cially in  Ken's  making  the  Varsity  baseball 
team.  He  asked  innumerable  questions,  and 
he  was  delighted  to  learn  of  Ken's  success 
and  that  he  had  been  elected  captain.  Then 
he  went  off  into  reminiscences  and  talked  of 
Ken's  adventures  in  Penetier  the  summer  be- 
fore. Finally  when  he  had  satisfied  his  fancy 
he  called  up  the  hounds,  one  by  one,  and  play- 
fully, though  seriously,  he  introduced  them  to 
the  boys. 

"  Hyar's  Prince,  the  best  lion-hound  I  ever 
trained,  bar  none.  He  has  a  nose  thet's 
perfect;  he's  fast  an'  savage,  an'  if  ever  a 
dog  had  brains  it's  Prince." 

The  great  hound  looked  the  truth  of  Hiram's 

claim.      He  was  powerful   in   build,  lean   of 

in,  and  long  of  limb,  tawny-colored,   and 

47 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

he   had   a  noble   head   with  great,  somber 
eyes. 

"  Hyar's  Curley,  who's  a  slow  trailer,  an' 
he  always  bays,  both  fine  qualities  in  a  hound. 
Prince  goes  too  swift  an*  saves  his  breath, 
but  then  it's  not  his  fault  if  I  don't  keep  close 
to  him  in  a  chase." 

"  An'  hyar's  Mux-Mux,  who's  no  good.'* 

The  ugly  black-and-white  hound  so  desig- 
nated wagged  a  stumpy  tail  and  pawed  his 
master,  and  appeared  to  want  to  make  it  plain 
that  he  was  not  so  bad  as  all  that. 

"  Wai,  Mux,  I'll  take  a  leetle  of  thet  back. 
You're  good  at  eatin',  an'  then  I  never  seen 
the  cougar  you  was  afraid  of.  An'  thet's 
bad,  fer  you'll  be  killed  some  day." 

"  Hyar's  Queen,  the  mother  of  the  pups,  an' 
she's  reliable,  though  slow  because  of  her  lame 
leg.  Hyar's  Tan,  a  good  hound,  an'  this  big 
black  fellar,  he's  Ringer.  He'll  be  as  good  as 
Prince  some  day,  if  I  can  only  save  him." 

Hiram  chained  each  hound  to  near-by  sap- 
lings; then  lighting  his  pipe  at  the  camp-fire 
he  found  a  comfortable  seat. 

"  Wai,  youngsters,  it's  dog-gone  good  to  see 
you  sittin'  by  my  camp-fire.  To-morrow  we'U 
48 


THROUGH    BUCKSKIN    FOREST 

go  up  on  the  plateau  an'  make  a  permanent 
camp.  Thar's  grass  an'  snow  in  the  hollers, 
an'  deer,  an'  wild  bosses  an'  mustangs." 

"Any  mountain-lions,  cougars?"  asked 
Ken,  intensely. 

"  I  was  comin'  to  them.  Wai,  I  never  in 
my  born  days  seen  such  a  network  of  cougars' 
tracks  as  is  on  thet  plateau.  An'  at  thet  I've 
only  been  on  one  end.  I'm  reckonin'  we'll 
round  up  the  biggest  den  of  cougars  in  the 
West.  You  see,  no  one  ever  hunted  thet 
plateau  but  Navajos,  an*  they  wouldn't  kill  a 
cougar.  Why,  a  cougar  is  one  of  their  gods. 
Wai,  as  I  was  sayin',  mebbe  we'll  strike  a 
whole  cat  tribe  up  thar.  An',  youngsters, 
what  do  you  say  to  ketchin*  'em  alive?" 

"  Great!"  exclaimed  Ken. 

Hiram  switched  his  look  of  inquiry  to  Hal. 
The  lad's  large  eyes,  startlingly  bright,  dilated 
and  burned. 

"  How?"  he  asked,  and  his  voice  rang  like  a 
bell. 

' '  Lasso  'em,  tie  'em  up, ' '  replied  Hiram.  Deceit 
could  not  have  lived  in  his  kindly,  clear  glance. 

"  Then  Ken  didn't  lie— after  all?"  blurted 
out  Hal. 

49 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  My  brother  never  believed  I  helped  you 
lasso  a  bear  and  that  we  intended  to  do  the 
same  with  cougars  out  here,"  exclaimed  Ken. 

"  It's  straight  goods,  youngster,"  added 
Hiram.  "Now,  whar  do  you  stand?  Most 
youngsters  like  to  shoot  things.  Mebbe  you'd 
find  it  fun  to  chase  cougars  up  trees  an'  then 
shoot  'em,  but  thar's  a  leetle  more  chance  fer 
excitement  when  you  pull  'em  out  with  a  rope. 
It  keeps  a  fellar  movin'  around  tolerable 
lively.  Which  would  you  like  best,  then — 
shootin '  or  ketchin '  ?  " 

"I'd  like  best — to  catch  them  alive," 
replied  Hal,  his  voice  very  low. 

"  Wai,  now,  I'm  glad.  You  see  it's  not  the 
excitement  I'm  lookin'  fer,  though  I  ain't 
say  in'  I  don't  like  to  rope  things,  but  the  fact 
is  I  get  ten  dollars  for  cougar  skins,  an'  three 
hundred  dollars  for  live  cougars.  So,  you 
youngsters  will  have  the  fun  an'  I'll  be  makin' 
money,  an'  at  the  same  time  we'll  be  riddin' 
Coconina  Preserve  of  bad  critters.  Let's  roll 
in  now,  fer  you're  tired,  an'  we  must  be  stirrin' 
early." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   PLATEAU 

HIRAM  routed  us  all  in  the  morning  while 
the  shadows  were  still  gray.  There  was  a 
bustling  about  camp.  When  we  were  packed 
and  mounted  ready  for  the  ascent  of  the 
plateau  the  pines  and  slopes  were  still  shrouded 
in  the  gray  gloom.  Hiram  led  us  along  a 
trail  overgrown  by  brush.  Presently  we  began 
climbing  such  a  steep  slope  that  we  had  to 
hang  to  the  pommels. 

The  Saddle  was  a  narrow  ridge  sloping  up 
to  the  plateau,  and  the  trail  zigzagged  its 
crest.  To  the  right  a  sweep  of  thicket ed 
hollow  led  out  into  wide  space  where  peaks 
and  mesas  began  to  show.  To  the  left  was 
the  great  abyss,  filled  with  creamy  mist.  It 
was  not  possible  to  see  a  rod  down  toward  the 
depths,  still  I  had  a  sure  sense  of  the  presence 
of  the  Canon.  The  climb  was  a  hard  task 
for  the  horses,  the  trail  being  one  made  by  deer, 
51 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

but  in  less  than  an  hour  we  were  up  on  the 
rim.  At  that  moment  the  sun  burst  out 
showing  through  rifts  in  rolling  clouds  of  mist. 
Then  we  saw  behind  and  above  us  the  long, 
bold,  black  line  of  Buckskin. 

Hiram  took  a  course  straight  back  from  the 
rim  through  a  magnificent  forest  of  pines. 
Perhaps  a  couple  of  miles  back  the  old  hunter 
circled  and  appeared  to  be  searching  for  a 
particular  place.  Presently  he  halted  in  a 
beautiful  glade  above  a  hollow  where  lay  a 
heavy  bank  of  snow.  On  the  slopes  the  grass 
was  yet  thin,  but  in  the  glade  it  was  thick. 
Here,  with  the  snow  and  the  grass,  our  problem 
was  solved  as  to  water  and  feed  for  the  horses. 

"  Hyar  we  are,''  called  out  Hiram,  cheerily. 
"  We'll  throw  our  camp  in  this  glade  jest  out 
of  reach  of  them  pines  on  the  northwest  side. 
Sometimes  a  heavy  wind  blows  one  over." 

We  had  all  gotten  busy  at  our  tasks  of  un- 
packing when  suddenly  we  were  attracted  by 
a  heavy  pounding  on  the  turf. 

' '  Hold  the  bosses ! ' '  yelled  Hiram.  ' '  Every- 
body grab  a  hoss!" 

We  all  made  a  dive  among  our  snorting  and 
plunging  steeds. 


THE    PLATEAU 

"  Youngsters,  look  sharp!  Don't  miss 
nothin' !  Thar's  a  sight ! ' '  called  Hiram. 

The  sound  of  pounding  hoofs  appeared  to  be 
coming  right  into  camp.  I  saw  a  string  of 
wild  horses  thundering  by.  A  black  stallion 
led  them,  and  as  he  ran  with  splendid  stride 
he  curved  his  fine  head  backward  to  look  at 
us,  and  whistled  a  wild  challenge.  Soon  he 
and  his  band  were  lost  in  the  blackness  of  the 
forest. 

"  The  finest  sight  I  ever  saw  in  my  life!" 
ejaculated  Ken.  "  Hal,  wasn't  that  simply 
grand?" 

"  No  matter  what  comes  off  now,  I'm  paid 
for  the  trouble  of  getting  here,"  replied  Hal. 

It  was  only  a  few  minutes  afterward  that 
the  Indian  manifested  excitement  and  pointed 
up  the  hollow.  A  herd  of  large,  white-tailed 
deer  trooped  down  toward  us,  and  stopped 
within  a  hundred  yards.  Then  they  stood 
motionless  with  long  ears  erect. 

"  Shoot!     Shoot! "  exclaimed  Navvy. 

"  Nary  a  shoot,  Navvy,"  replied  Hiram. 

The  Indian  looked  dumbfounded,  and  gazed 
from  the  rifles  to  us  and  then  to  the  deer. 

"Oh!"  cried  Hal.  "They're  tame  deer/ 
53 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

What  beautiful,  large  creatures!  I  couldn't 
shoot  them." 

"  No,  youngster,  they're  not  tame  deer. 
They're  so  wild  thet  they  aren't  afraid. 
They've  nsver  been  shot  at,  thet  bunch.  An', 
youngster,  these  deer  here  are  mule  deer  an' 
must  hev  some  elk  in  them.  Thet  accounts 
fer  their  big  size.  Now  ain't  they  jest 
pretty?" 

The  hounds  saw  the  herd  and  burst  into 
wild  clamor.  That  frightened  the  deer  and 
they  bounded  off  with  the  long,  springy  leaps 
characteristic  of  them. 

"  Look  like  they  jump  on  rubber  stilts," 
commented  Hal. 

' '  All  hands  now  to  throw  camp.  Fust  thing, 
well  pitch  my  tent.  I  tell  you,  youngsters, 
thet  tent  may  come  in  right  useful,  if  we  hev 
a  storm.  An'  at  this  altitude — we're  up  over 
seven  thousand  feet — we  may  git  a  snow-squall 
any  day." 

It  was  not  long  before  we  had  a  comfortable 
and  attractive  camp.  At  the  far  side  of  the 
glade  stood  a  clump  of  small  sapling  pines  in 
regard  to  which  Ken  said  he  would  have  to 
practise  a  little  forestry.  The  saplings  were 

54 


THE    PLATEAU 

meager  and  had  foliage  only  at  the  top.  Ken 
declared  he  would  thin  out  that  clump. 

"  Wai,  thet's  a  fine  idee,"  remarked  Hiram. 
"  Thin  'em  out  an'  leave  about  a  dozen  saplin's 
each  ten  feet  apart.  They'll  be  jest  what  I 
want  to  chain  our  cougars  to." 

At  that  speech  the  faces  of  both  boys  were 
studies  in  expression.  Hal,  especially,  looked 
as  if  he  were  dreaming  a  most  wild  and  real 
adventure. 

When  work  was  finished  the  boys  threw 
themselves  down  upon  the  brown  pine-needle 
mats  and  indulged  in  rest.  Hiram  did  not 
allow  them  much  indulgence. 

"  Saddle  up,  youngsters,"  he  called  out, 
"  Onless  you're  too  tired  to  go  with  us." 

Thereupon  the  boys  became  as  animated  as 
their  aching  bones  and  sore  muscles  would 
permit. 

"  Leslie,  leave  the  Injun  in  camp  to  look 
after  things  an'  well  git  the  lay  of  the  land." 

"  He'll  eat  us  cuten  house  an'  home," 
growled  Jim  Williams.  "  I  shore  don't  see 
why  we  fetched  him,  anyhow." 

All  the  afternoon  we  were  ridmg  the  plateau. 
We  were  completely  bewildered  with  its  im- 

s  55 


THE   YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

pressiveness  and  surprised  at  the  abundance 
of  wild  horses  and  mustangs,  deer,  coyotes, 
foxes,  grouse  and  birds,  and  overjoyed  to  find 
innumerable  lion  trails.  When  we  returned 
to  camp  I  drew  a  rough  map,  which  Hiram 
laid  flat  on  the  ground  and  called  us  around 
him. 

"  Now,  youngsters,  let's  get  our  heads 
together." 

In  shape  the  plateau  resembled  the  ace  of 
clubs.  The  center  and  side  wings  were  high 
and  well  wooded  with  heavy  pine;  the  middle 
wing  was  longest,  sloped  west,  had  no  pine, 
but  a  dense  growth  of  cedar.  Numerous 
ridges  and  canons  cut  up  this  central  wing. 
Middle  Canon,  the  longest  and  deepest,  bi- 
sected the  plateau,  headed  near  camp,  and  ran 
parallel  with  two  smaller  ones,  which  we 
named  Right  and  Left  Canons.  These  three 
were  lion  runways,  and  hundreds  of  deer 
carcasses  lined  the  thickets.  North  Hollow 
was  the  only  depression,  as  well  as  runway,  on 
the  northwest  rim.  West  Point  formed  the 
extreme  western  cape  of  the  plateau.  To  the 
left  of  West  Point  was  a  deep  cut-in  of  the 
rim-wall,  called  the  Bay.  The  three  impor- 
56 


THE    PLATEAU 

tant  canons  opened  into  it.  From  the  Bay, 
the  south  rim  was  regular  and  impassable  all 
the  way  round  to  the  narrow  Saddle,  which 
connected  it  to  the  mainland. 

"  Wai,"  said  Hiram,  "  see  the  advantage  we 
can  git  on  the  tarnal  critters.  The  plateau  is 
tolerable  nigh  ten  miles  long  an'  six  wide  at 
the  widest.  We  can't  git  lost  fer  very  long. 
Thet's  a  big  thing  in  our  favor.  We  know 
whar  cougars  go  over  the  rim  an'  we'll  head 
'em  off,  make  short-cut  chases  thet  I  calkilate 
is  a  new  one  in  cougar-chasin'.  'Cept  whar 
we  climbed  up  the  Saddle  cougars  can't  git 
over  the  second  wall  of  rock.  The  first  rim, 
I  oughter  told- you,  is  mebbe  a  thousand  feet 
down,  with  breaks  in  places.  Then  comes  a 
long  cedar  an'  pifion  slope,  weatherin'  slides, 
broken  cliffs  an' crags,  an' then  the  second  wall. 
Now  regardin'  cougar  sign — wal,  I  hardly 
believe  the  evidence  of  my  own  eyes.  The 
plateau  is  virgin  ground.  We've  stumbled 
on  the  breedin  '-ground  of  the  hundreds  of 
cougars  thet  infest  the  north  rim." 

Hiram  struck  his  huge  fist  into  the  palm 
of  his  hand.  He  looked  at  Jim  and  me  and 
then  at  the  boys,  It  did  not  take  a  very 
57 


THE   YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

observing  person  to  see  that  the  old  bear 
hunter  was  actually  excited.  Jim  ran  his 
hand  into  his  hair  and  scratched  his  head,  a 
familiar  action  with  him  when  his  mind  was 
working  unusually. 

"  We  hev  corraled  them,  shore  as  you're 
born!" 

The  flash  in  Hiram's  clear  eyes  changed  to 
an  anxious  glance,  that  ranged  from  Ken  and 
Hal  to  our  horses. 

"  I  reckon  some  common  sense  an'  care  will 
make  it  safe  fer  the  youngsters,"  he  saidt 
"  but  some  of  the  hosses  an'  some  of  the  dogs 
are  goin'  to  git  hurt,  mebbe  killed." 

More  than  anything  else  that  remark,  from 
such  a  man,  thrilled  me  with  its  subtle  sug- 
gestion. He  loved  horses  and  hounds.  He 
saw  danger  ahead  for  them. 

"  Youngsters,  listen,"  he  went  on,  soberly. 
"  We're  in  fer  some  chases.  I  want  you  to 
think  first  of  the  risk  to  yourselves,  an'  then 
to  the  hosses  you  ride.  Don't  fly  offen  the 
handle.  Be  cool.  Let  your  hosses  pick  the 
goin'.  Keep  sharp  eyes  peeled  fer  the  snags 
on  the  trees,  an'  fer  bad  rocks  an'  places. 
Ken,  you  keep  close  behind  Leslie  as  you  can, 
58 


THE    PLATEAU 

an*  Hal,  you  stick  close  to  Jim.  Course  well 
lose  each  other  an'  the  hounds,  an'  hev  trouble 
findin'  each  other  again.  But  the  idee  is, 
keep  cool  an'  go  slow,  when  you  see  it  ain't  safe 
to  go  fast." 

During  supper  we  talked  a  good  deal,  and 
afterward  around  the  camp-fire.  Hal  was  the 
only  one  who  kept  silent,  and  he  was  too 
absorbed  in  what  he  heard  to  find  his  own 
voice. 

But  during  a  lull  in  the  conversation  he 
asked  suddenly : 

"  I  want  to  know  why  our  horses  carried  on 
so  this  morning  when  that  stallion  ran  through 
the  woods  with  his  band?" 

"  Simple  enough,  Hal,"  I  replied.  "  They 
wanted  to  break  loose  and  run  off  with  the 
wild  horses.  They'll  do  it,  too,  before  we 
leave  here.  We  rangers  have  trouble  keeping 
our  horses.  The  mountain  is  overrun  with 
mustangs  and  such  wild  bands  as  you  saw 
to-day.  And  if  we  lose  a  horse  it's  almost 
impossible  to  catch  him  again." 

Twilight  descended  with  the  shadows  sweep- 
ing under  the  pines;  the  night  wind  rose  and 
began  its  moan. 

59 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  Shore  there's  a  scent  on  the  wind,"  said 
Jim,  lighting  his  pipe  with  a  red  ember.  "  See 
how  oneasy  Prince  is." 

The  hound  raised  his  dark  head,  pointing 
his  nose  into  the  cool  breeze,  and  he  walked  to 
and  fro  as  if  on  guard  for  his  pack.  Mux-Mux 
ground  his  teeth  on  a  bone  and  growled  at  one 
of  the  pups.  Curley  was  asleep.  Ringer 
watched  Prince  with  suspicious  eyes.  The 
other  hounds  lay  stretched  before  the  fire. 

"  Wai,  Prince,  we  ain't  lookin'  fer  trails 
to-night,"  said  Hiram.  "  Ken,  it'll  be  part 
of  your  duty  around  camp  to  help  me  with  the 
pack.  Chain  'em  up  now,  an'  we'll  go  to  bed. " 


CHAPTER  VI 

TRAILS 

WHEN  I  awakened  next  morning  the  crack 
of  Hiram's  axe  rang  out  sharply,  and  the 
light  from  the  camp-fire  played  on  Ken's  face 
as  he  lay  asleep.  I  saw  old  Mux  get  up  and 
stretch  himself.  A  jangle  of  bells  from  the 
forest  told  me  we  would  not  have  to  wait  for 
the  horses. 

"The  Injun's  all  right,"  I  heard  Hiram  say. 

"All  rustle  for  breakfast,"  called  Jim. 
"Ken!  .  .  .  Hal!" 

Then  the  boys  rolled  out,  fresh-faced  and 
bright-eyed,  but  still  stiff  and  lame. 

"Gee!  Ken,  listen  to  the  horses  coming," 
said  Hal.  "How'd  Navvy  ever  find  them? 
It's  hardly  daylight." 

"That's  a  secret  I  expect  every  ranger 
would  like  to  know,"  replied  Ken. 

"I  like  that  Indian — better 'n  at  first," 
went  on  Hal. 

61 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

We  ate  in  the  semi-darkness  with  the  gray 
shadow  lifting  among  the  trees.  As  we 
saddled  our  horses  dawn  lightened.  The  pups 
ran  to  and  fro  on  their  chains,  scenting  the 
air.  The  older  hounds  stood  quiet,  waiting. 

"Come,  Navvy.  Come  chase  cougie,"  said 
Hiram. 

The  Indian  made  a  remarkable  gesture  of 
dislike  or  fear,  I  could  not  divine  which. 

"Let  him  keep  camp,"  I  suggested. 

"  He'll  shore  eat  all  our  grub,"  said  Jim. 

"Climb  up,  youngsters,"  ordered  Hiram. 
"  An'  remember  all  I  said  about  bein'  careful. 
.  .  .  Wai,  hev  I  got  all  my  trappin's — rope, 
chains,  collars,  wire,  nippers?  All  right.  Hyar, 
you  lazy  hounds — out  of  this.  Take  the  lead 
thar,  Prince." 

We  rode  abreast  through  the  forest,  and  I 
could  not  help  seeing  the  pleasure  in  Ken's 
face  and  the  wild  spirit  in  Hal's  eyes.  The 
hounds  followed  Prince  at  an  orderly  trot. 
We  struck  out  of  the  pines  at  half-past  five. 
Floating  mists  hid  the  lower  end  of  the  plateau, 
but  cedar-trees  began  to  show  green  against 
the  soft  gray  of  sage.  The  morning  had  a 
cool  touch,  though  there  was  no  frost,  Jogging 
62 


TRAILS 

along,  we  had  crossed  Middle  Canon  and  were 
nearing  the  dark  line  of  cedar  forest  when 
Hiram,  who  led,  held  up  his  hand  in  a  warning 
check. 

"Oh,  Ken!  look  at  Prince,"  whispered  Hal 
to  his  brother. 

The  hound  stood  stiff,  head  well  up,  nose 
working,  and  hair  on  his  back  bristling.  All 
the  other  hounds  whined  and  kept  close  to 
him. 

"  Prince  has  a  scent,"  said  Hiram.  "  Thar's 
been  a  cougar  round  hyar.  I  never  knowed 
Prince  to  be  fooled.  The  scent's  in  the  wind. 
Hunt'  em  up,  Prince.  Spread  out  thar,  you 
dogs." 

The  pacj<  commenced  to  work  back  and 
forth  along  the  ridge.  We  neared  a  hollow 
where  Prince  barked  eagerly.  Curley  an- 
swered, and  likewise  Queen.  Mux's  short, 
angry  bow-wow  showed  that  he  was  in  line. 

" Ringer's  gone,"  shouted  Jim.  "He  was 
farthest  ahead.  Shore  he's  struck  a  trail." 

"Likely    enough,"    replied    Hiram.     "But 
Ringer  doesn't  bay.  .  .  .  Thar's  Prince  work- 
in'    over.     Look   sharp,    youngsters,    an'    be 
ready  f  er  some  ridin ' .     We  're  close ! ' ' 
63 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

The  hounds  went  tearing  through  the  sage, 
working  harder  and  harder,  calling  and  an- 
swering one  another,  all  the  time  getting  down 
into  the  hollow.  Suddenly  Prince  began  to 
yelp.  Like  a  yellow  dart  he  shot  into  the 
cedars,  running  head  up.  Curley  howled  his 
deep,  full  bay  and  led  the  rest  of  the  pack  up 
the  slope  in  angry  clamor. 

"Thar  off!"  yelled  Hiram,  spurring  his  big 
horse. 

"Stay  with  me,  Kid,"  shouted  Jim  over 
his  shoulder  to  Hal.  The  lad's  pinto  leaped 
into  quick  action.  They  were  out  of  sight 
in  the  cedars  in  less  than  a  moment.  I  heard 
Ken  close  behind  me,  and  yelled  to  him  to 
come  along.  Crashings  among  the  cedars 
ahead,  thud  of  hoofs  and  yells  kept  me  going 
in  one  direction.  The  fiery  burst  of  the 
hounds  had  surprised  me.  Such  hunting  was 
as  new  to  me  as  to  the  boys,  and  from  the 
tingling  in  my  veins  I  began  to  feel  that  it  was 
just  as  exciting.  I  remembered  that  Jim  had 
said  Hiram  and  his  charger  might  keep  the 
pack  in  sight,  but  the  rest  of  us  could  not. 

My  horse  was  carrying  me  at  a  fast  pace  on 
the  trail  of  some  one,  and  he  seemed  to  know 
64 


TRAILS 

that  by  keeping  in  this  trail  part  of  the  work 
of  breaking  through  the  brush  was  already 
done  for  him.  Ken's  horse  thundered  in  my 
rear.  The  sharp  cedar  branches  struck  and 
stung  me,  and  I  heard  them  hitting  Ken.  We 
climbed  a  ridge,  found  the  cedars  thinning  out, 
and  then  there  were  open  patches.  As  we 
faced  a  slope  of  sage  I  saw  Hiram  on  his  big 
horse. 

"  Ride  now,  boy!"  I  yelled  to  Ken. 

"I'll  hang  to  you.  Cut  loose!"  he  shouted 
in  reply. 

We  hurdled  the  bunches  of  sage,  and  went 
over  the  brush,  rocks,  and  gullies  at  breakneck 
speed.  I  heard  nothing  but  the  wind  singing 
in  my  ears.  Hiram's  trail,  plain  in  the  yellow 
ground,  showed  me  the  way.  Upon  entering 
the  cedars  again  we  lost  it.  I  stopped  my 
horse  and  checked  Ken.  Then  I  called.  I 
heard  the  baying  of  the  hounds,  but  no  an- 
swer to  my  signal. 

"  Don't  say  we've  lost  them! "  cried  Ken. 

41  Come  on!     The  hounds  are  close." 

We  burst  through  thickets,  threaded  the 
mazes  of  cedars,  and  galloped  over  sage  flats 
till  a  signal  cry,  sharp  to  our  right,  turned  us. 
65 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

I  answered,  and  an  exchange  of  signals  led  us 
into  an  open  glade  where  we  found  Hiram, 
Jim,  and  Hal,  but  no  sign  of  a  hound. 

"  Hyar  you  are,"  said  Hiram.  "  Now  hold 
up,  an'  listen  fer  the  hounds." 

With  the  labored  breathing  of  the  horses 
filling  our  ears  we  could  hear  no  other  sound. 
Dismounting,  I  went  aside  a  little  way  and 
turned  my  ear  to  the  breeze. 

"  I  hear  Prince,"  I  cried,  instantly. 

"  Which  way?"  both  men  asked. 

"West." 

"  Strange,"  said  Hiram. 

"Shore  the  hounds  wouldn't  split?"  asked 
Jim. 

"  Prince  leave  thet  hot  trail?  Not  much. 
But  he's  runnin'  queer  this  mornin'." 

"There!  Now  listen,"  I  put  in.  "There 
are  Prince  and  another  hound  with  a  deep 
bay." 

"Thet's  Curley.  I  hear 'em  now.  They're 
runnin'  to  us,  an'  hot.  We  might  see  a 
cougar  any  minnit.  Keep  a  tight  rein,  young- 
sters. Mind  a  hoss  is  scart  to  death  of  a 
cougar." 

The  baying  came  closer  and  closer.  Our 
66 


TRAILS 

horses  threw  up  their  ears.  Hal's  pinto  stood 
up  and  snorted.  The  lad  handled  him  well. 
Then  at  a  quick  cry  from  Jim  we  saw  Prince 
cross  the  lower  end  of  the  flat. 

There  was  no  need  to  spur  our  mounts. 
The  lifting  of  bridles  served,  and  away  we 
raced.  Prince  disappeared  in  a  trice,  then 
Curley,  Mux,  and  Queen  broke  out  of  the  cedars 
in  full  cry.  They,  too,  were  soon  out  of  sight. 

"  Hounds  runnin'  wild,"  yelled  Hiram. 

The  onslaught  of  the  hunter  and  his  charger 
stirred  a  fear  in  me  that  checked  admiration. 
I  saw  the  green  of  a  low  cedar-tree  shake  and 
split  to  let  in  the  huge,  gaunt  horse  with  rider 
doubled  over  the  saddle.  Then  came  the 
crash  of  breaking  brush  and  pounding  of  hoofs 
from  the  direction  the  hounds  had  taken.  We 
strung  out  in  the  lane  Hiram  left  and  hung 
low  over  the  pommels ;  and  though  we  had  his 
trail  and  followed  it  at  only  half  his  speed, 
yet  the  tearing  and  whipping  we  got  from 
the  cedar  spikes  were  hard  enough  indeed. 

A  hundred  rods  within  the  forest  we  un- 
expectedly came  upon  Hiram,  dismounted, 
searching  the  ground.  Mux  and  Curley  were 
with  him,  apparently  at  fault,  Suddenly 
67 


THE    YOUNG   LION    HUNTER 

Mux  left  the  little  glade  and,  with  a  sullen, 
quick  bark,  disappeared  under  the  trees. 
Curley  sat  on  his  haunches  and  yelped. 

"Shore  somethin's  wrong,"  said  Jim,  turn- 
bling  out  of  his  saddle.  "  Hiram,  I  see  a  lion 
track." 

"  Here,  fellows,  I  see  one,  and  it's  not  where 
you're  looking,"  I  added. 

"Now  what  do  you  think  I'm  lookin'  fer 
if  it  ain't  tracks?"  queried  Hiram.  "Hyar's 
one  cougar  track,  an'  thar's  another.  Jump 
off,  youngsters,  an'  git  a  good  look  at  'em. 
Hyar's  the  trail  we  were  on,  an'  thar's  the 
other,  crossin'  at  right  angles.  Both  are 
fresh,  one  ain't  many  minnits  old.  Prince  an* 
Queen  hev  split  one  way,  an'  Mux  another. 
Curley >  wise  old  hound,  hung  fire  an'  waited 
fer  me.  Whar  on  earth  is  Ringer?  It  ain't 
like  him  to  be  lost  when  thar's  doin's  like  this." 

"What  next?"  asked  Jim,  mounting. 

"I'll  put  Curley  on  the  fresher  trail,"  replied 
Hiram.  "An'  you  all  ought  to  be  able  to 
keep  within  hearin'  of  him.  .  .  .  Thar!  Cur- 
ley. ...  Hi!  Hi!" 

Curley  dashed  off  on  the  trail  Mux  had  taken. 
Then  began  some  hard  riding.  Hal  and  the 
68 


TRAILS 

pinto  were  directly  in  front  of  me,  and  I  saw 
that  the  lad  was  having  the  ride  of  his  life. 
Sometimes  he  ducked  the  cedar  branches  and 
again  he  was  not  quick  enough.  There  were 
times  when  I  thought  he  would  be  swept  from 
his  saddle,  but  he  hung  on  while  the  pinto  made 
a  hole  in  the  brush.  More  than  once  Hal  lost 
his  stirrup-footing.  All  the  time  that  I 
watched  him  and  turned  to  see  if  Ken  was  all 
right,  I  was  getting  a  thrashing  from  the 
cedars.  But  I  felt  only  the  severest  lashes. 
From  time  to  time  Hiram  yelled.  We  man- 
aged to  keep  within  earshot  of  Curley,  and 
presently  reached  a  canon,  which,  judging  by 
depth,  must  have  been  Middle  Canon.  At 
that  point  it  was  a  barrier  to  our  progress, 
but  fortunately  Curley  did  not  climb  the 
opposite  slope,  ic  we  followed  the  rim  and 
gained  on  the  hound.  Soon  we  heard  Mux. 
Curley  had  caught  up  with  him.  We  came 
to  a  point  where  the  canon  was  not  so  deep 
and  wider,  and  the  slopes  were  less  rugged. 
Curley  bayed  incessantly.  Mux  uttered  harsh 
howls,  and  both  hounds  in  plain  sight  began 
working  in  a  circle.  Hiram  reined  in  his  horse 
andleaped  off , while  the  rest  of  us  came  to  ahalt. 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Off  now,  youngsters,"  said  Hiram,  sharply. 
"Tie  your  bosses,  tight.  The  cougar's  gone 
up  somewhar.  Run  along  the  slope  an'  look 
sharp  in  every  cedar  an'  pinon,  an'  in  every 
crevice  of  the  cliffs." 

Hal  jumped  off,  but  did  not  tie  his  pinto,  and 
he  was  white  with  excitement  and  panting 
heavily.  Ken  left  his  mustang  and  hurried 
along  the  ledge  ahead  of  me.  Every  few  steps 
he  would  stop  to  peer  cautiously  around.  As 
if  he  had  been  struck,  he  suddenly  straight- 
ened and  his  voice  pealed  out : 

"The  lion!  The  lion!  Here  he  is!  I  see 
him!  ...  Oh,  hurry,  Hal!" 

I  ran  toward  Ken,  but  could  not  see  the  lion. 
Then  I  stopped  to  watch  Mux.  He  ran  to  the 
edge  of  a  low  wall  of  stone  across  the  canon; 
he  looked  over,  and  barked  fiercely.  When  I 
saw  him  slide  down  a  steep  slope,  make  for  the 
bottom  of  the  stone  wall,  and  jump  into  the 
branches  of  a  cedar  I  knew  where  to  look  for 
the  lion.  Then  I  espied  a  round  yellow  ball  cun- 
ningly curled  up  in  a  mass  of  branches.  Proba- 
bly the  lion  had  leaped  into  the  tree  from  the  wall. 

"  Treed !  Treed ! "  I  yelled.  "  Mux  has  found 
him." 

70 


TRAILS 

Hiram  appeared,  crashing  down  a  weathered 
slope. 

"Hyar,  everybody,"  he  bawled.  "Hustle 
down  an'  make  a  racket.  We  don't  want  him 
to  jump." 


CHAPTER  VII 

TWO    LIONS 

HIRAM  and  Jim  rolled  down  and  fairly 
cracked  the  stones  in  their  descent.     I 
shouted  for  the  boys  to  come  on.     Hal  never 
moved  a  muscle,  and  Ken  seemed  chained  to 
the  spot.     Hiram  turned  and  saw  them. 

"  Ho,  youngsters,  are  you  scared?"  shouted 
he. 

"Yes,  but  I'm  coming,"  replied  Ken.  Still 
he  showed  a  strange  vacillation.  Overcome 
then  by  shame  or  anger,  he  plunged  down  the 
slope  and  did  not  halt  till  he  was  under  the 
snarling  lion. 

"Back,  Ken,  back!  You're  too  close," 
warned  Hiram.  "He  might  jump,  an'  if  he 
does  don't  run,  but  drop  flat.  He's  a  Tom, 
a  two-year-old,  an'  he's  sassy." 

"Don't  care — whether  he — jumps  or  not," 
panted  Ken,  bouncing  about.     "  I've  got  to— - 
be  cured — of  this — this — " 
72 


TWO    LIONS 

Whatever  Ken  had  to  be  cured  of  he  did  not 
say,  but  I  had  no  doubt  that  it  was  dread. 
I,  myself,  did  not  feel  perfectly  cool,  by  some 
dozens  of  degrees.  The  flaming  eyes  of  the 
lion,  his  open  mouth  with  its  white  fangs,  his 
steady,  hissing  growls,  the  rippling  of  muscles 
as  if  it  was  his  intention  to  leap  at  the  hounds, 
were  matters  certainly  not  conducive  to  calm- 
ness. 

"Will  you— look  at  Mux!"  shouted  Ken. 

The  old  hound  had  already  climbed  a  third 
of  the  distance  up  to  the  lion. 

"  Hyar,  Mux,  you  rascal  coon-chaser!"  yelled 
Hiram.  "  Out  of  thar!"  He  threw  stones  and 
sticks  at  the  hound.  Mux  replied  with  his 
surly  bark  and  steadily  climbed  on. 

"I'll  hev  to  pull  him  out,  or  thar '11  be  a 
dead  hound  in  about  a  minnit,"  said  Hiram. 
"Watch  close,  Jim,  an'  tell  me  if  the  cougar 
starts  down.  I  can't  see  through  the  thick 
branches.  He'll  git  mighty  nervous  jest  be- 
fore he  starts." 

When  Hiram  mounted  into  the  first  branches 
of  the  cedar  Tom  emitted  an  ominous  growl, 
and  bunched  himself  into  a  ball,  trembling 
all  over. 

73 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  Shore  he's  comin',''  yelled  Jim. 

The  lion,  snarling  viciously,  started  to 
descend,  and  Hiram  warily  backed  down.  It 
was  a  ticklish  moment  for  all  of  us,  particularly 
Hiram;  and  as  for  me,  what  with  keeping  an 
eye  on  the  lion  and  watching  the  boys,  I  had 
enough  to  do.  Hal's  actions  were  singular; 
he  would  run  down  the  slope,  then  run  back* 
wave  his  arms  and  let  out  an  Indian  yell.  His 
brother  kept  dodging  to  and  fro  as  if  he  were 
on  hot  bricks.  Never  before  had  I  seen  such 
eyes  as  blazed  in  Ken  Ward's  face.  The  lion 
went  back  up  the  cedar,  Mux  climbed  labori- 
ously on,  and  Hiram  followed. 

"Fellars,  mebbe  he's  bluffin',"  said  Hiram. 
"Let's  try  him  out.  Now  all  of  you  grab 
sticks  an'  holler  an'  run  at  the  tree  as  if  you 
was  goin'  to  kill  him." 

The  thrashing,  yelling  din  we  made  under 
that  cedar  might  have  alarmed  even  an 
African  lion.  Tom  shook  all  over,  showed  his 
white  fangs,  and  climbed  so  far  up  that  the 
branches  he  clung  to  swayed  alarmingly. 

"  Here,  punch  Mux  out,"  said  Jim,  handing 
up  a  long  pole. 

The  old  hound  hung  to  the  tree,  making  it 
74 


TWO    LIONS 

difficult  to  dislodge  him,  but  at  length  Hiram 
punched  him  off.  He  fell  heavily,  whereupon, 
venting  his  thick  battle-cry,  he  essayed  to 
climb  again. 

"  You  old  gladiator !  Git  down ! ' '  protested 
Hiram.  "  What  in  the  tarnal  dickens  can  we 
do  with  sich  a  dog?  Tie  him  up,  somebody." 

Jim  seized  Mux  and  made  him  fast  to  the 
lasso  with  which  Curley  had  already  been 
secured. 

"Wai,  fellars,  I  can't  reach  him  hyar.  I'm 
goin'  farther  up,"  said  the  hunter. 

"Rustle,  now,"  yelled  Jim. 

I  saw  that  Hiram  evidently  had  that  in 
mind.  He  climbed  quickly.  It  was  enough 
to  make  even  a  man  catch  his  breath  to  watch 
him,  and  I  heard  Ken  gasping.  Hiram  reached 
the  middle  fork  of  the  cedar,  stood  erect  and 
extended  the  noose  of  his  lasso  on  the  point 
of  his  pole.  Tom,  with  a  hiss  and  a  snap, 
savagely  struck  at  it.  A  second  trial  tempted 
the  lion  to  seize  the  rope  with  his  teeth.  In 
a  flash  Hiram  withdrew  the  pole  and  lifted  a 
loop  of  the  slack  noose  over  the  lion's  ears. 
The  other  end  of  the  lasso  he  threw  down  to 
Jim. 

7K 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Pull!  "he  yelled. 

Jim  threw  all  his  weight  into  action,  pulling 
the  lion  out  with  a  crash,  and  giving  the  cedar 
such  a  tremendous  shake  that  Hiram  lost  his 
footing.  Grasping  at  branches  and  failing 
to  hold,  he  fell,  apparently  right  upon  the 
lion.  A  whirling  cloud  of  dust  arose,  out  oi 
which  Hiram  made  prodigious  leaps. 

11  Look  out!"  he  bawled. 

His  actions,  without  words,  would  have  been 
electrifying  enough.  As  I  ran  to  one  side  tho 
lion  just  missed  Hiram.  Then  with  a  spring 
that  sent  the  stones  rattling  he  made  at  Ken. 
The  lad  dove  straight  downhill  into  a  thicket. 
When  the  furious  lion  turned  on  Jim,  that 
worthy  dropped  the  lasso  and  made  tracks. 
Here  the  quick-witted  Hiram  seized  the  free 
end  of  the  trailing  lasso  and  tied  it  to  a  sapling. 
Then  the  wrestling  lion  disappeared  in  a  thick 
cloud  of  dust. 

"  Dod  gast  the  luck!"  yelled  Hiram,  picking 
up  Jim's  lasso.  "I  didn't  mean  for  you  to 
pull  him  out  of  the  tree.  He'll  kill  himself 
now  or  git  loose." 

When  the  dust  cleared  away  I  discovered 
our  prize  stretched  out  at  full  length,  frothing 


TWO    LIONS 

at  the  mouth.  As  Hiram  approached,  swing- 
ing the  other  lasso,  the  lion  began  a  series  of 
evolutions  that  made  him  resemble  a  wheel 
of  yellow  fur  and  dust.  Then  came  a  thud 
and  he  lay  inert. 

Hiram  pounced  upon  him  and  loosened  the 
lasso  round  his  neck. 

"I'm  afraid  he's  done  fer.  But  mebbe  not. 
They're  hard-lived  critters.  He's  breathin' 
yet.  Hyar,  Leslie,  help  me  tie  his  paws 
together.  .  .  .  Be  watchful." 

As  I  came  up  the  lion  stirred  and  raised  his 
head.  Hiram  ran  the  loop  of  the  second  lasso 
round  the  two  hind  paws  and  stretched  Tom 
out.  While  in  this  helpless  position,  with  no 
strength  and  scarcely  any  breath,  he  was  easy 
to  handle.  With  Jim  and  me  attending 
strictly  to  orders  Hiram  clipped  the  sharp 
claws,  tied  the  four  paws  together,  took  off 
the  neck  lasso  and  substituted  a  collar  and 
chain. 

"Let  him  breathe  a  little.  He's  comin' 
round  all  right,"  said  Hiram.  "But  we're 
lucky.  Jim,  never  pufl  another  cougar  clear 
out  of  a  tree.  Pull  him  off  over  a  limb  an' 
hang  him  thar  while  some  one  below  ropes 
77 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

his  hind  paws.  Thet's  the  only  way,  an'  if 
we  don't  stick  to  it  somebody '11  git  chewed 
up." 

Ken  appeared,  all  scratched  and  torn  from 
his  header  into  the  thorny  brake.  As  he 
gazed  at  our  captive  he  whooped  for  Hal. 
The  lad  edged  down  the  slope  and  approached 
us  eagerly.  He  was  absolutely  unconscious 
that  we  were  laughing  at  him.  His  face  was 
in  a  flush,  with  brow  moist  and  his  telltale 
eyes  protruding.  Whatever  the  few  thrilling 
moments  had  been  to  us,  they  must  have  been 
tame  compared  to  what  they  had  been  to  HaL 

"Wai,  youngster,  whar  were  you  when  it 
came  off?"  inquired  Hiram,  with  a  smile. 

"  Have  we  got  him — really? ' '  whispered  Hal. 

"Shore,  Kid.  He's  a  good  cougar  now,'* 
answered  Jim. 

"Come  along  an'  watch  me  put  on  his 
muzzle,"  said  Hiram. 

Hiram's  method  of  performing  this  part  of 
his  work  was  the  most  hazardous  of  all.  He 
thrust  a  stick  between  Tom's  open  jaws,  and 
when  the  lion  crushed  it  into  splinters  he 
tried  another  and  yet  another,  till  he  found  one 
that  did  not  break.  Then,  while  Tom  bit  on 
78 


TWO    LIONS 

it,  Hiram  placed  a  wire  loop  over  the  animal's 
nose,  slowly  tightening  it  till  the  stick  would 
not  slip  forward  of  the  great  canine  teeth. 

"Thar,  thet's  one,  ready  to  pack  to  camp. 
We'll  leave  him  hyar  an'  hunt  up  Prince  an' 
Queen.  They've  treed  the  other  cougar  by 
this  time." 

When  Jim  untied  Mux  and  Curley  it  was 
remarkable  to  see  what  little  interest  they 
had  in  the  now  helpless  lion.  Mux  growled, 
then  followed  Curley  up  the  slope.  We  all 
climbed  out  and  mounted  our  horses. 

"Hear  thet!"  yelled  Hiram.  "Thar's 
Prince  yelpin'.  Hi!  Hi!  Hi!" 

From  the  cedars  across  the  ridge  rang  a 
thrilling  chorus  of  bays.  Hiram  spurred  his 
horse  and  we  fell  in  behind  him  at  a  gallop. 
We  leveled  a  lane  of  sage  in  that  short  race, 
and  when  Hiram  leaped  off  at  the  edge  of  the 
impenetrable  cedar  forest  we  were  close  at 
his  heels.  He  disappeared  and  Jim  and  Ken 
followed  him.  I  heard  them  smashing  the 
dead  wood,  and  soon  a  deep  yell  mingled  with 
shouts  and  the  yelps  of  the  hounds.  I 
waited  to  tie  Ken's  mustang,  and  I  had  to 
perform  a  like  office  for  Hal,  whose  hands 
79 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

trembled  so  he  could  not  do  it.  He  jerked 
his  rifle  out  of  his  scabbard. 

"  No,  no,  Hal,  you  won't  want  that.  Put 
it  back.  You  might  shoot  somebody  in  the 
excitement.  Come  on.  Keep  your  wits.  You 
can  climb  or  dodge  as  well  as  I." 

Then  I  dragged  him  into  the  gloomy  clump 
of  cedars  whence  came  the  uproar.  First  I 
saw  Ken  in  a  tree,  climbing  fast;  then  Mux 
in  another,  and  under  him  the  other  hounds 
with  noses  skyward;  and  last,  up  in  the  dead 
topmost  branches,  a  big  tawny  lion. 

"Whoop!"  the  yell  leaped  past  my  lips. 
Quiet  Jim  was  yelling;  Ken  was  splitting  the 
air,  and  Hiram  let  out  from  his  cavernous 
chest  a  booming  roar  that  almost  drowned  ours. 

I  lifted  and  shoved  Hal  into  a  cedar,  and 
then  turned  to  the  grim  business  of  the  mo- 
ment. Hiram's  first  move  was  to  pull  Mux  out 
of  the  tree. 

"  Hyar,  Leslie,  grab  him;  he's  stronger'n 
a  hoss." 

If  Mux  had  been  only  a  little  stronger  he 
would  have  broken  away  from  me.  Jim  ran 
a  r  ^pe  under  the  collar  of  all  the  hounds;  then 
both  of  us  pulled  them  from  under  the  lion. 

8(7 


TWO    LIONS 

"  It's  got  to  be  a  slip-knot,"  said  Jim,  as  we 
fumbled  with  the  rope.  "  Shore  if  the  cougar 
jumps  we  want  to  be  able  to  free  the  hounds 
quick." 

Then  while  Hiram  climbed  Jim  and  I  waited. 
I  saw  Ken  in  the  top  of  a  cedar  on  a  level 
with  the  lion.  Hal  hugged  a  branch  and 
strained  his  gaze,  and,  judging  from  the  look 
of  him,  his  heart  was  in  his  throat.  Hiram's 
gray  hat  went  pushing  up  between  the  dead 
snags,  then  his  burly  shoulders.  The  quiver- 
ing muscles  of  the  lion  grew  tense,  and  his 
lithe  body  crouched  low.  He  was  about  to 
jump.  His  dripping  jaws,  his  wild  eyes  roving 
for  some  means  of  escape,  his  tufted  tail  swing- 
ing against  the  twigs  and  breaking  them, 
manifested  his  terror  and  extremity.  The 
hunter  climbed  on  with  a  rope  between  his  teeth 
and  a  long  stick  in  his  hand. 

"  Git  ropes  ready  down  thar ! "  yelled  Hiram. 

My  rope  was  new  and  bothersome  to  handle. 
When  I  got  it  right  with  a  noose  ready  I  heard 
a  cracking  of  branches.  Looking  up,  I  saw 
the  lion  biting  hard  at  a  rope  which  circled  his 
neck.  Jim  ran  directly  under  the  tree  with  a 
spread  noose  in  his  hands.  Then  Hiram 
Si 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

pulled  and  pulled,  but  the  lion  held  firmly. 
Whereupon  Hiram  threw  his  end  of  the  rope 
down  to  me. 

"Thar,  Leslie,  lend  a  hand." 

We  both  pulled  with  might  and  main ;  still 
the  lion  was  too  strong.  Suddenly,  the  branch 
broke,  letting  the  lion  fall,  kicking  frantically 
with  all  four  paws.  Jim  grasped  one  of  the 
lower  paws  and  dexterously  left  the  noose 
fast  on  it.  But  only  by  a  hair's  breadth  did 
he  dodge  the  other  whipping  paw. 

"  Let  go,  Leslie,"  yelled  Hiram. 

I  complied,  and  the  rope  Hiram  and  I  had 
held  flew  up  over  the  branches  as  the  lion  fell, 
and  then  it  dropped  to  the  ground.  Hiram, 
plunging  out  of  the  tree,  made  a  flying  snatch 
for  the  rope,  got  it  and  held  fast. 

"Stretch  him  out,  Jim,"  roared  Hiram. 
"An'  Leslie,  stand  ready  to  put  another  rope 
on." 

The  action  had  been  fast,  but  it  was  slow  to 
what  then  began.  It  appeared  impossible 
for  two  strong  men,  one  of  them  a  giant, 
to  straighten  out  that  wrestling  lion.  The 
dust  flew,  the  sticks  snapped,  the  gravel 
pattered  against  the  cedars.  Jim  went  to  his 
82 


TWO    LIONS 

knees,  and  Hiram's  huge  bulk  bowed  under 
the  strain.  Then  Jim  plowed  the  ground 
flat  on  his  stomach.  I  ran  to  his  assistance 
and  took  the  rope  which  he  now  held  by  only 
one  hand.  He  got  up  and  together  we  lent 
our  efforts,  getting  in  a  strong  haul  on  the 
lion.  Short  as  that  moment  was  it  enabled 
Hiram  to  make  his  lasso  fast  to  a  cedar. 
The  three  of  us  then  stretched  the  beast  from 
tree  to  tree,  after  which  Hiram  put  a  third 
lasso  on  the  front  paws. 

"A  whoppin'  female/'  said  Hiram,  as  our 
captive  lay  helpless  with  swelling  sides  and 
blazing  eyes.  "  She's  nearly  eight  feet  from 
tip  to  tip,  but  not  extra  heavy.  Females 
never  git  fat.  Hand  me  another  rope." 

With  four  lassoes  in  position  to  suit  Hiram 
the  lioness  could  not  move.  Then  he  pro- 
ceeded to  tie  her  paws,  clip  her  claws,  muzzle 
and  chain  her. 

"  I  reckon  you  squirrels  can  come  down 
now,"  remarked  Hiram,  dryly,  to  the  brothers. 
"See  hyar,  one  of  these  days  when  we  git 
split,  thar'll  be  mebbe  no  one  to  help  me  but 
one  of  you  youngsters.  What  then  ? ' ' 

To  Hal  and  Ken,  who  had  dropped  out  of 
83 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

their  perches,  the  old  hunter's  speech  evidently 
suggested  something  at  once  frightful  and 
enthralling. 

"  Shore  as  you're  born  thet  s  goin'  to 
happen,"  added  Jim,  as  he  wiped  the  sweat 
and  dust  from  his  face. 

"I  never  felt — so — before  in  my  life,"  said 
Hal,  tremulously.  "My  whole  insides  went 
like  a  crazy  clock  when  you  break  a  spring. 
.  .  .  Then  I  froze— scared  stiff!" 

His  naive  confession  strengthened  any  al- 
ready favorable  impression. 

Ken  laughed.  "Kid,  didn't  I  say  it  was 
coming  to  you?" 

Hal  did  not  reply  to  this;  he  had  shifted 
his  attention  to  the  hounds.  Jim  was  loosing 
them  from  the  rope.  They  had  ceased  yelping 
and  I  was  curious  to  know  how  they  would 
regard  our  captive. 

Prince  walked  within  three  feet  of  the 
lioness,  disdaining  to  notice  her  at  all,  and 
lay  down.  Curley  wagged  his  tail;  Queen 
began  to  lick  her  sore  foot;  Tan  wearily 
stretched  himself  for  a  nap;  only  Mux,  the 
incorrigible,  retained  antipathy  for  our  bound 
captive,  and  he  growled  once  low  and  deep, 
84 


TWO    LIONS 

and  rolled  his  bloodshot  eyes  at  her  as  if  to 
remind  her  it  was  he  who  had  brought  her  to 
such  a  pass.  And,  on  the  instant,  Ringer, 
lame  and  dusty  from  travel,  trotted  into  the 
glade,  and,  looking  at  the  lioness,  he  gave  one 
disgusted  grunt  and  flopped  down. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IN   CAMP 

HOW  should  we  get  our  captives  to  camp? 
This  was  the  task  which  we  faced  next. 
We  sent  Ken  back  for  the  pack-horses.  He 
was  absent  a  long  while,  and  when  at  length 
he  hove  in  sight  on  the  sage  flat  it  was  plain 
that  we  were  in  for  trouble.  Marc,  the  bay 
stallion,  was  on  the  rampage. 

"Why  didn't  he  fetch  the  Injun?"  growled 
Hiram,  who  lost  his  temper  only  when  things 
went  wrong  with  the  horses.  "Spread  out, 
boys,  an'  head  him  off." 

We  managed  to  surround  the  stallion  and 
Hiram  succeeded  in  getting  a  halter  on  him. 
Ken's  face  was  red,  his  hair  damp,  and  he 
looked  as  if  he  had  spent  an  hour  or  two  of 
trying  responsibility. 

"I  didn't  want  the  bay,"  he  explained. 
"  But  I  couldn't  drive  the  others  without  him. 
And  what  do  you  think  of  this?  When  I  told 
86 


IN    CAMP 

the  Indian  that  we  had  two  lions  he  ran  off  into 
the  woods.  Say!  maybe  I  haven't  had  some 
bother  with  that  stallion.  I  think  riding  him 
will  be  the  only  way  to  get  him  anywhere. 
That's  what  I'm  going  to  do  next  time." 

"Wai,  first  thing  when  we  get  to  camp  I'll 
scalp  the  redskin,"  said  Jim. 

"Youngster,  you  needn't  be  so  flustrated," 
put  in  Hiram.  "  I  reckon  you  did  well  to  git 
Marc  hyar  at  all." 

As  they  talked  they  were  standing  on  the 
open  ridge  at  the  entrance  to  the  thick  cedar 
forest.  The  two  lions  lay  just  within  the 
shade.  Hiram  and  Jim,  using  a  pole,  had 
carried  our  first  captive,  whom  we  had  named 
Tom,  up  from  the  canon  to  where  we  had  tied 
the  lioness. 

Ken,  as  directed,  had  brought  a  pack-saddle 
and  two  long  canvas  sacks.  When  Hiram 
tried  to  lead  the  horse  that  carried  these, 
the  animal  began  to  tremble  and  pull 
back. 

"Somebody  unbuckle  the  straps,"  yelled 
Hiram. 

It  was  good  luck  that  I  got  the  sacks  and 
saddle  off,  for  in  three  jumps  the  horse  broke 
7  87 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

from  Hiram  and  plunged  away  across  the 
sage  flat. 

"Shore  he'll  belong  to  the  band  of  wild 
hosses,"  commented  Jim. 

I  led  up  another  horse  and  endeavored  to 
hold  him  while  Jim  and  Hiram  got  the  pack- 
saddle  on.  It  would  have  taken  all  three 
of  us  to  hold  him. 

"They  smell  the  lions,"  said  Hiram.  "I 
was  afraid  they  would.  Consarn  the  luck! 
Never  had  but  one  nag  thet  would  pack  lions." 

"Try  the  sorrel,"  I  suggested.  "He  looks 
amiable." 

For  the  first  time  in  a  serviceable  life,  ac- 
cording to  Hiram,  the  sorrel  broke  his  halter 
and  kicked  like  a  plantation  mule. 

"Shore  they're  scared,''  said  Jim.  "Marc 
ain't  afraid.  Try  him." 

Hiram  gazed  at  Jim  as  if  he  had  not  heard 
aright. 

"Go  ahead,  Hiram,  try  the  stallion,"  I 
added.  "  I  like  the  way  he  looks." 

"Pack  cougars  on  thet  hoss!"  exclaimed 
the  astounded  Hiram. 

"Shore,"  replied  Jim. 

The  big  stallion  looked  a  king  of  horses — 
88 


THE  LION,  SNARLING  VICIOUSLY,  STARTED  TO  DESCEND. 


IN    CAMP 

just  what  he  would  have  been  if  Purcell  had 
not  taken  him  when  a  colt  from  his  wild  desert 
brothers.  He  scented  the  lions,  for  he  held 
his  proud  head  up,  his  ears  erect,  and  his 
large  dark  eyes  shone  like  fire. 

"I'll  try  to  lead  him  in  an'  let  him  see  the 
cougars.  We  can't  fool  him,"  said  Hiram. 

Marc  showed  no  hesitation,  nor  ind.eed  any- 
thing we  expected.  He  stood  stiff-legged 
before  the  lions  and  looked  as  if  je  wanted  to 
fight. 

"  Shore  he'll  pack  them,"  declared  Jim. 

The  pack-saddle  being  strapped  on  and  the 
sacks  hooked  to  the  horns,  Hiram  and  Jim, 
while  I  held  the  stallion,  lifted  Tom  and 
shoved  him  down  into  the  left  sack.  A 
madder  lion  than  Tom  never  lived.  It  was 
hard  enough  to  be  lassoed  and  disgrace  enough 
to  be  "hog-tied,"  as  Jim  put  it,  but  to  be 
thrust  down  into  a  bag  and  packed  on  a  horse 
was  more  than  any  self-respecting  lion  could 
stand.  Tom  frothed  at  the  mouth  and  seemed 
like  a  fizzing  torpedo  about  to  explode.  The 
lioness,  being  considerably  larger,  was  with 
difficulty  gotten  into  the  other  sack,  and  her 
head  and  paws  hung  out. 
89 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  I  look  to  see  Marc  bolt  over  the  rim,"  said 
Hiram.  "An'  I  promised  Purcell  to  hev  a 
care  of  this  hoss." 

Hiram's  anxiety  clouded  his  judgment,  for 
he  was  wrong.  Marc  packed  the  lions  to 
camp  in  short  order,  and  as  Jim  said,  "  without 
turnin'  a  hair."  We  saw  the  Navajo's  head 
protruding  from  behind  a  tree. 

"  Here,  Navvy,"  I  called. 

Hiram  and  Jim  yelled  derisively,  whereupon 
the  black  head  vanished  and  did  not  reappear. 
Then  they  unhooked  one  of  the  sacks  and 
dumped  out  the  lioness.  Hiram  fastened  her 
chain  to  a  small  pine-tree,  and  as  she  lay 
powerless  he  pulled  out  the  stick  back  of  her 
canines.  This  let  the  wire  muzzle  fall  off. 
She  welcomed  so  much  freedom  with  a  roar. 
The  last  action  in  releasing  her  from  the  bonds 
Hiram  performed  with  much  dexterity.  He 
slipped  the  loop  fastening  one  paw,  which 
loosened  the  rope,  and  in  a  twinkling  let  her 
work  the  other  paws  free.  Up  she  sprang, 
mouth  wide,  ears  flat,  and  eyes  ablaze. 

Before  the  men  lowered  Tom  from  the  pack- 
saddle  I  stepped  closer  and  put  my  face  within 
six  inches  of  his.  He  promptly  spat  at  me. 
90 


IN    CAMP 

I  wanted  to  see  the  eyes  of  a  wild  lion  at  close 
range.  They  were  beautiful.  Great  half- 
globes  of  tawny  amber,  streaked  with  delicate 
lines  of  black,  surrounded  pupils  of  purple  fire. 

"  Boys,  come  here,"  I  called  to  Ken  and  Hal. 
"  Don't  miss  this  chance.  Bend  close  to  the 
lion  and  look  into  his  eyes." 

Both  boys  jerked  back  as  Tom  spat  and 
hissed,  but  presently  they  steeled  their  nerves 
and  got  close  enough. 

"There.  .  .  .  What  do  you  see?" 

"  Pictures!"  exclaimed  Ken. 

"I  want  to  let  him  go  free,"  replied  Hal, 
instantly. 

It  pleased  me  that  the  brothers  saw  in  the 
eyes  of  the  lion  much  the  same  that  I  had  seen. 

Pictures  shone  there  and  faded  in  the  amber 
light — the  shaggy-tipped  plateau,  the  dark 
pines  and  smoky  canons,  the  yellow  cliffs  and 
crags.  Deep  in  these  live  pupils,  changing, 
quickening  with  a  thousand  vibrations,  quiv- 
ered the  soul  of  this  savage  beast,  the  wildest 
of  all  wild  nature,  unquenchable  love  of  life 
and  freedom  and  flame  of  defiance  and  hate. 

Hiram  disposed  of  Tom  in  the  same  manner 
as  he  had  the  lioness,  chaining  him  to  an  ad- 
9* 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

joining  small  pine,  where  he  leaped  and 
wrestled. 

"  Dick,  look!  There  comes  Jim  with  Navvy," 
said  Ken. 

I  saw  Jim  leading  and  dragging  the  Indian 
into  camp.  I  felt  sorry  for  Navvy,  for  I  be- 
lieved that  his  fear  was  not  so  much  physical 
as  spiritual.  The  lion,  being  a  Navajo  god, 
was  an  object  of  reverence  to  the  Indian,  and 
it  seemed  no  wonder  that  Navvy  hung  back 
from  the  sacrilegious  treatment  of  his  god. 
Forced  along  by  Jim,  the  Navajo  dragged  his 
feet  and  held  his  face  sidewise.  Jim  drew 
him  within  fifteen  feet  and  there  held  him, 
while  Hiram  tried  to  show  and  tell  the  poor 
fellow  that  the  lions  would  not  hurt  him. 
Navvy  stared  and  muttered  to  himself.  Jim. 
seemed  to  have  some  deviltry  in  mind,  for  he 
edged  up  closer,  but  just  then  Hiram  pointed 
to  the  loose  horses  and  said  to  the  In- 
dian: 

"Chineago"  (feed). 

But  no  sooner  had  Jim  released  Navvy  than 
he  bolted,  and  the  yells  sent  after  him  made 
him  run  only  the  faster. 

"He'll  come  back  when  he  gits  hungry," 
92 


IN    CAMP 

said  Hiram.  "Ken,  you  drive  the  bosses 
down  in  the  holler  whar  thar's  good  browse. " 

With  an  agile  leap  Ken  swung  up  on  the 
broad  back  of  the  stallion. 

"Hyar,  youngster,  pile  off  thar!"  called 
Hiram.  ' '  Wai,  dog-gone  me ! " 

It  appeared  that  our  great  stallion  had  laid 
aside  his  noble  disposition  and  was  his  old  self 
once  more.  Before  Ken  had  fairly  gotten 
astride  Marc  dropped  his  head,  humped  his 
shoulders,  brought  his  feet  together  and  began 
to  buck.  It  looked  to  me  as  if  Marc  was  a 
tougher  bucking  proposition  than  the  wildest 
broncho  that  ever  romped  the  desert.  For 
Marc  was  unusually  robust  and  heavy,  yet 
exceedingly  active.  I  had  seen  him  roll  over 
in  the  dust  three  times  each  way  and  do  it 
easily,  something  I  had  never  seen  equaled 
by  another  horse. 

Ken  began  to  bounce.  He  twisted  his 
strong  hands  in  the  mane  of  the  stallion  and 
held  on.  It  was  plain  that  Ken's  blood  was 
up.  And  all  of  us,  seeing  that  it  was  now  safer 
for  him  to  keep  his  seat,  began  to  give  en- 
couragement. 

"  Shore  you're  doin'  fine,"  yelled  Jim.     But 

93 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

I  fancied  that  Jim  did  not  mean  Ken  was 
really  doing  well.  Hiram's  concern  changed 
to  mirth  and  he  roared.  It  was  as  funny  to 
see  Hal  as  it  was  to  see  Ken.  The  younger 
lad  was  beside  himself  with  excitement  and 
glee.  He  ran  around  Marc  and  his  shrill 
yells  pealed  out. 

"Stay  with  him,  Ken.  .  .  .  Stick  on.  .  .  . 
Hug  him  tight.  .  .  .  Get  a  new  hold.  .  .  . 
Look  out ! ' ' 

Then  Marc  became  a  demon.  He  plowed 
the  ground.  Apparently  he  bucked  five  feet 
straight  up.  Before  Ken  had  bounced.  Now 
he  began  to  shoot  up  into  the  air.  But  the 
lad  was  powerful  and  his  hold  did  not  break 
easily.  Higher  and  higher  he  rose,  and  then 
the  last  time  his  heels  went  over  his  head. 
He  went  up  to  the  full  extent  of  his  arms,  and 
when  he  came  down  heavily  his  hold  broke. 
He  spun  around  on  the  broad  back  of  the 
stallion  and  went  hurtling  to  the  ground. 
The  soft  pine-needle  mat  saved  him  from  in- 
jury and  he  sat  up.  "  Jiminy ! ' '  he  exclaimed, 
"no  wonder  Navvy  didn't  ride  him." 

When  we  recovered  from  our  mirth  Jim 
drawled  out: 

94 


IN   CAMP 

"  Ken,  thet  was  the  best  buckin'  I  ever  seen  a 
hoss  do.  Shore  Marc  could  buck  off  a  cinched 
saddle." 

"Ken,  I  reckon  you'll  hev  to  knuckle  to 
Marc,"  said  Hiram,  "an'  you  better  ride  your 
own  hoss." 

"Don't  worry,"  replied  Ken,  "I  know 
when  I  have  got  enough."  He  mounted  his 
mustang  and  drove  Marc  and  the  other  horses 
down  into  the  hollow.  When  he  returned 
•we  all  saw  Navvy  sneaking  into  camp  behind 
him.  The  Indian  stopped  at  a  near-by  pine, 
but  seeing  that  we  appeared  not  to  be  con- 
cerned about  him,  he  presently  approached. 

We  all  busied  ourselves  with  camp-fire  tasks, 
and  I  helped  Ken  feed  the  hounds.  To  feed 
ordinary  dogs  is  a  matter  of  throwing  them 
a  few  bones;  our  dogs,  however,  were  not 
ordinary.  It  took  time  to  feed  them  and  a 
prodigious  amount  of  meat.  We  had  packed 
a  quantity  of  wild-horse  meat  which  had  been 
cut  into  small  pieces  and  strung  on  the 
branches  of  a  scrub-oak. 

Prince  had  to  be  fed  by  hand.  I  heard 
Hiram  say  the  hound  would  have  starved  if 
the  meat  had  been  thrown  indiscriminately 
95 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

to  the  pack.  Curley  asserted  his  rights  and 
preferred  large  portions  at  a  time.  Queen 
begged  with  solemn  eyes,  but  for  all  her 
gentleness  she  could  eat  more  than  her  share. 
Tan  needed  watching,  and  Ringer,  because  of 
imperfectly  developed  teeth,  had  to  have  his 
portion  cut  into  small  pieces.  As  for  Mux- 
Mux — well,  great  dogs  have  their  faults — he 
never  got  enough  meat.  He  would  fight  poor 
crippled  Queen,  and  steal  even  from  the  pups, 
and  when  he  had  gotten  all  that  Ken  would 
give  him  and  all  he  could  snatch,  he  would 
waddle  away  with  bulging  sides,  looking  like 
an  old  Dutch  man-of-war. 

"  Will  our  lions  eat?"  asked  Hal. 

"Not  for  days,"  replied  Hiram.  "Mebbe 
we  can  tempt  them  to  eat  fresh  rabbits  in  a 
week  or  so.  But  they'll  drink  to-night." 

We  made  a  hearty  meal,  and  afterward 
Hiram  and  Ken  and  I  walked  through  the 
woods  toward  the  rim.  A  yellow  promontory, 
huge  and  glistening,  invited  us  westward,  and 
after  a  detour  of  half  a  mile  we  reached  it. 
The  points  of  the  rim,  stretching  out  into  the 
immense  void,  always  drew  me  irresistibly. 
We  found  the  view  from  this  rock  one  of 
96 


IN   CAMP 

startling  splendor.  The  corrugated  rim-wall 
of  the  middle  wing  extended  to  the  west,  and 
at  this  moment  apparently  reached  into  the 
setting  sun.  The  golden  light,  flashing  from 
the  millions  of  facets  of  chiseled  stone, 
created  color  and  brilliance  too  glorious  and 
intense  for  the  gaze  of  men.  And  looking 
downward  was  like  looking  into  the  placid, 
blue,  bottomless  depths  of  the  Pacific. 

"  Here,  help  me  push  off  this  stone,"  I  said. 
We  heaved  on  a  huge  round  stone,  and  were 
encouraged  to  feel  it  move.  Fortunately  we 
had  a  little  slope;  the  boulder  groaned,  rocked 
and  began  to  slide.  Just  as  it  toppled  over 
I  glanced  at  the  second-hand  of  my  watch. 
Then  with  eyes  over  the  rim  we  waited.  The 
silence  was  the  silence  of  the  canon,  dead  and 
vast,  intensified  by  our  breathless  ear-strain. 
Ten  long,  palpitating  seconds  and  no  sound! 
I  gave  up.  The  distance  was  too  great  for 
sound  to  reach  us.  Fifteen  seconds — seven- 
teen— eighteen — 

With  that  a  puff  of  air  seemed  to  rise, 
bringing  a  deafening  peal  of  thunder.  It 
rolled  up  and  widened,  deadened,  to  burst 
out  and  roll  louder,  then  slowly,  like  moun- 
ts 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

tains  on  wheels,  rumbled  under  the  rim-walls, 
passing  on  and  on,  to  roar  back  in  echo  from 
the  cliffs  of  the  mesas.  Roar  and  rumble — 
roar  and  rumble!  For  two  long  moments  the 
dull  and  hollow  echoes  rolled  at  us,  slowly  to 
die  away  at  the  last  in  the  far -distant 
canons. 

"Thet's  a  mighty  deep  hole,"  commented 
Hiram. 

Twilight  stole  upon  us  idling  there,  silent, 
content  to  watch  the  red  glow  pass  away  from 
the  buttes  and  peaks,  the  color  deepening 
downward  to  meet  the  ebon  shades  of  night 
creeping  up  like  a  dark  tide. 

On  turning  toward  camp  we  tried  a  short 
cut,  which  brought  us  to  a  deep  hollow  with 
stony  walls.  It  seemed  better  to  go  around 
it.  The  hollow,  however,  was  quite  long,  and 
we  decided  presently  to  cross  it.  We  had 
descended  a  little  way  when  suddenly  the  old 
hunter  held  me  back  with  his  big  arm. 

"Listen,"  he  whispered. 

It  was  quiet  in  the  woods;  only  a  faint 
breeze  stirred  the  pine-needles ;  and  the  weird, 
gray  darkness  seemed  approaching  under  the 
trees. 

08 


IN   CAMP 

I  heard  the  patter  of  light,  hard  hoofs  on  the 
scaly  sides  of  the  hollow. 

"  Deer?"  I  asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Yes;  see,"  he  replied,  pointing  ahead, 
"jest  under  thet  broken  wall  of  rock,  right 
thar  on  this  side;  they're  goin'  down." 

I  descried  gray  objects,  the  color  of  the 
rock,  moving  down  like  shadows. 

"  Have  they  scented  us?" 

"Hardly;  the  breeze  is  against  us.  Mebbe 
they  heerd  us  break  a  twig.  They've  stopped, 
but  are  not  lookin'  our  way.  Wai,  I  wonder — " 

Suddenly  there  was  a  rattle  of  stones, 
followed  by  an  indistinct  thud  as  from  the 
impact  of  soft,  heavy  bodies,  and  then  the 
sound  of  a  struggle  in  the  hollow. 

"Lion  jumped  a  deer,"  yelled  Hiram. 
"  Right  under  our  eyes.  Come  on!  Ken,  pull 
your  gun  on  the  critter.  Thar  he  goes!  Hi! 
Hi!  Hi!" 

Hiram  ran  down  the  incline,  yelling  all  the 
way,  and  I  kept  close  to  him.  Toward  the 
bottom,  the  thicket  barred  our  progress,  so 
that  we  had  to  smash  through.  But  Ken 
distanced  us.  His  yell  pealed  out  and  then 
Crack!  Crack!  went  his  six-shooter,  I  saw  a 
99 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

gray,  swiftly  bounding  object  too  long  and  too 
low  for  a  deer.  Hurriedly  drawing  my  revol- 
ver I  worked  the  trigger  as  fast  as  I  could. 
Ken  also  was  shooting,  and  the  reports  blended 
in  a  roar  that  echoed  from  the  cliff.  But  for 
all  our  shots  the  cougar  got  away. 

"  Come  here — this  way — hurry,"  called  Ken. 

Hiram  and  I  crashed  out  of  the  brush,  and  in 
another  moment  were  bending  over  a  gray 
mass  huddled  at  Ken's  feet.  It  was  a  deer, 
gasping  and  choking. 

"A  yearlin'  doe,"  said  Hiram.  "Look 
hyar,  low  down  on  her  neck,  whar  the  tarnal 
cat  bit  in.  Hear  thet  wheeze?  Thet's  blood 
in  her  throat.  Ken,  if  you  hev  another  shot 
put  her  out  of  pain." 

But  neither  Ken  nor  I  had  an  extra  car- 
tridge a)x)ut  us,  nor  did  Hiram  have  his  clasp- 
knife,  and  we  had  to  stand  there  silent  until 
the  doe  quivered  and  died. 

Then  a  signal  cry  rang  down  the  slope. 

"Thet's  Jim,"  said  Hiram.  "It  didn't 
take  him  long  to  git  to  us." 

There  was  a  crashing  of  brush,  quick  thud 
of  flying  feet,  and  Jim  loomed  up  through  the 
gathering  darkness.  He  carried  a  rifle  in  each 
100 


IN   CAMP 

hand,  and  he  moved  so  assuredly  and  looked 
so  formidable  in  the  dusk  that  I  thought  of 
what  such  a  reinforcement  would  mean  at  a 
time  of  real  peril, 

"Jim,  I've  lived  to  see  many  strange  hap- 
penin's,"  said  Hiram,  "but  this  was  the  first 
time  I  ever  seen  a  cougar  jump  a  deer." 

"  Shore  you  did  enough  shoot  in'  to  make  me 
think  somethin'  had  come  off,"  replied  Jim. 

We  soon  returned  to  camp  the  richer  by  a 
quantity  of  fresh  venison. 

Hal  was  sitting  close  to  the  fire  and  looked 
rather  white.  I  observed  that  he  had  his 
rifle.  He  did  not  speak  a  word  till  Ken  told 
of  our  little  adventure. 

"Just  before  all  the  yells  and  shots  I  hap- 
pened to  be  watching  Prince,"  said  Hal.  "  He 
was  uneasy;  he  wouldn't  lie  down;  he  sniffed 
the  wind  and  growled.  I  thought  there  must 
be  a  lion  about." 

"Wai,  I  shore  wish  Ken  had  plugged  him," 
said  Jim. 

I  believed  Jim's  wish  found  an  echo  in  all 
our  hearts.  At  any  rate,  to  hear  him  and 
Hiram  express  regret  over  the  death  of  the 
doe  justified  in  some  degree  my  own  feelings 

IOX 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

The  tragedy  we  had  all  but  interrupted  oc- 
curred every  night,  perhaps  often  in  the  day, 
and  likely  at  different  points  at  the  same  time. 
Hiram  told  how  he  had  found  fourteen  piles  of 
bleached  bones  and  dried  hair  in  the  thickets 
of  less  than  a  mile  of  the  hollow  on  which  we 
were  encamped. 

"We'll  rope  the  danged  cats,  boys,  or  by 
George!  we'll  kill  them!  Wai,  it's  blowin' 
cold.  Hey,  Navvy,  coco!  coco!" 

The  Indian,  carefully  laying  aside  his  ciga- 
rette, kicked  up  the  fire  and  threw  on  more 
wood. 

"Discass"  (cold),  he  said  to  Ken;  "coco 
weyno"  (fire  good). 

Ken  replied,  "  Me  savvy — yes." 

"Sleep-ie?"  he  asked. 

"Moocha,"  returned  Ken. 

While  we  carried  on  a  sort  of  novel  conver- 
sation, full  of  Navajo,  English,  Spanish,  and 
gestures,  absolute  darkness  settled  down  upon 
us.  I  saw  the  stars  disappear.  The  wind, 
changing  to  the  north,  grew  colder,  and 
carried  a  breath  of  snow.  I  liked  a  north 
wind  best — from  under  the  warm  blankets — 
because  of  the  roar  and  lull  and  lull  and  roar 

102 


IN    CAMP 

in  the  pines.  Crawling  into  bed  presently  I 
lay  there  and  listened  to  the  rising  storm- wind 
for  a  long  time.  Sometimes  it  swelled  and 
crashed  like  the  sound  of  a  breaker  on  the 
beach,  but  mostly,  from  a  low,  incessant  moan, 
it  rose  and  filled  to  a  mighty  rush,  then  sud- 
denly lulled;  and  this  lull  was  conducive  to 
sleep. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  VISIT   FROM   RANGERS 

'T'HE  Navajo  awoke  us  with  his  singing. 
*  Ken  peeped  lazily  from  under  the  blankets 
and  then  covered  himself  again.  The  air  was 
cold  and  flakes  of  white  drifted  through  our 
wind-break  of  pine  boughs. 

"  Snow! ' '  exclaimed  Ken. 

"By  all  that's  lucky,"  I  replied.  "Hiram 
wants  snow  more  than  anything." 

"Why?  "queried  Ken. 

"So  we  can  track  lions.  Also  have  plenty 
of  snow-water.  Roll  out  now,  Ken." 

"Oh-h-h!  but  I'm  sore,"  groaned  Ken,  as 
he  laboriously  got  up  and  began  to  pull  on  his 
boots.  "  Baseball  training  isn't  one — two — 
six  to  this  work." 

"  Stay  off  bucking  horses,"  I  replied. 

We  walked  to  a  roaring  camp-fire.  The 
others  were  all  astir,  even  Hal  being  up  and 
busy.  Hiram's  biscuits,  well  browned  and  of 
104 


A   VISIT    FROM    RANGERS 

generous  size,  had  just  been  dumped  into  the 
middle  of  our  tarpaulin  table-cloth ;  the  coffee- 
pot steamed  fragrantly  and  a  huge  skillet 
sizzled  with  a  quantity  of  sliced  venison. 

"Youngster,  did  you  hear  the  Injun?" 
asked  Hiram,  as  he  poked  red  coals  in  a  heap 
round  the  skillet. 

"  His  singing  woke  me,"  answered  Ken. 

"  It  wasn't  a  song.  Thet's  the  Navajo's 
mornin'  prayer,  a  chant.  Wai — " 

Growls  and  snarls  from  the  lions  interrupted 
him.  I  looked  up  to  see  Hal  fooling  round 
our  captives.  They  were  wet,  dirty,  bedrag- 
gled. Hiram  had  cut  down  a  small  pine  and 
made  shelters  for  the  lions,  but  they  did  not 
seem  disposed  to  keep  out  of  the  snow. 

"Let  'em  alone,  youngster,"  said  Hiram  to 
Hal.  "  They  won't  be  drove.  Mebbe  they'll 
git  in  out  of  the  wet  arter  a  while.  .  .  . 
We're  havin'  good  luck  an'  bad.  Snow's 
what  we  want.  But  now  we  can't  git  the 
trail  of  the  lion  thet  killed  the  doe." 

"Chineago!"  called  Jim,  who  like  the  rest 
of  us  had  begun  to  assimilate  a  little  of  the 
Navajo  language. 

Whereupon  we  fell  to  eating  with  appetites 
105 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

unknown  to  any  save  hunters.  Somehow  the 
Indian  gravitated  to  Hal  at  meal-times,  and 
now  he  sat  cross-legged  beside  him,  holding 
out  a  plate  and  looking  as  hungry  as  Mux. 
At  the  first  he  always  asked  for  what  happened 
to  be  on  Hal's  plate,  and  when  that  became 
empty  he  gave  up  imitation  and  asked  for 
anything  he  could  get.  The  Navajo  had  a 
marvelous  appetite.  He  liked  sweet  things, 
sugar  best  of  all.  It  was  a  fatal  error  to  let 
him  get  his  hands  on  a  can  of  fruit.  Although 
he  inspired  Hiram  with  disgust  and  Jim  with 
worse,  he  was  a  source  of  unfailing  pleasure 
to  the  boys. 

"  What's  on  for  to-day?"  queried  Ken. 

"  Wai,  we  may  as  well  hang  round  camp  an' 
rest  the  hounds,"  replied  Hiram.  "I  in- 
tended to  go  arter  the  lion  thet  killed  the  deer, 
but  this  snow  has  taken  away  the  scent." 

"Shore  it'll  stop  snowin'  soon,"  said  Jim. 

The  falling  snow  had  thinned  out,  and 
looked  like  flying  powder;  the  leaden  clouds, 
rolling  close  to  the  tree-tops,  grew  brighter 
and  brighter;  bits  of  azure  sky  shone  through 
rifts. 

Navvy  had  tramped  off  to  find  the  horses, 

106 


A   VISIT    FROM    RANGERS 

and  not  long  after  his  departure  we  heard  the 
jangle  of  bells.  Then  he  appeared,  riding 
Hal'^j  mustang,  and  racing  the  others  toward 
camp. 

Ken  and  I  set  to  work  building  a  shack  for 
the  hounds.  And  when  we  finished  it  there 
was  no  need  of  it,  for  that  time  at  least, 
because  all  the  snow  had  gone.  The  sun  was 
shining  warmly  and  the  forest  was  as  brown 
and  almost  as  dry  as  on  the  day  before. 

"  Wai,  it's  a  good  idee  to  hev  a  day  of  rest 
onct  in  a  while,"  said  Hiram,  in  answer  to 
Ken's  impatient  desire  to  be  on  the  hunt. 
"Youngster,  you'll  git  all  you  want.  But  I 
tell  you  it  might  be  useful  fer  us  to  prowl 
round  an'  explore  some  of  these  hollers. 
We'll  need  to  know  all  about  'em,  places  to 
cross,  whar  they  head,  an'  sich  as  thet.  Now 
you  an'  Dick  go  north,  an'  Jim  an'  me'll  go 
south.  Hal  can  keep  camp  with  Navvy." 

So  Ken  and  I  started  off  on  foot.  We 
found  the  hollows  extremely  interesting.  They 
began  where  the  forest  of  pines  merged  on 
the  sage  flats.  Some  were  shallow  and  some 
deep  V-shaped  cuts,  too  steep  for  us  to  go 
straight  down.  The  thickets  of  scrub-oak 
107 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

lined  the  slope  and  thickets  of  aspen  covered 
the  bottom.  Every  hollow  had  its  well- 
defined  deer  and  lion  trail,  and  every  thicket 
its  grisly  heap  of  bones  and  hide.  We  jumped 
deer  and  flushed  grouse,  and  out  of  one  hollow 
we  chased  the  wild  stallion  and  his  band. 
Ken  was  delighted  at  the  sight  of  them.  After 
several  hours  of  leisurely  exploring  we  re- 
turned toward  camp. 

"Dick,  I  see  strange  horses,"  said  Ken,  as 
we  drew  near. 

Sure  enough,  there  were  horses  in  camp  that 
did  not  belong  to  our  party,  and  presently  I 
saw  men  who  were  not  Hiram  or  Jim.  We 
had  visitors. 

"  Perhaps  they're  some  Mormon  wild-horse 
hunters,"  I  replied.  "I  hope  so,  for  I'd  like 
you  to  meet  some  of  those  fellows,  and  go  on 
a  hunt  with  them.  .  .  .  No,  they're  rangers. 
Now,  Ken,  I  don't  like  this  for  a  cent." 

As  we  walked  into  camp  neither  Hal  nor 
the  Indian  was  in  sight.  Three  rangers  lolled 
about  under  the  pines.  One  of  them  I  did  not 
know;  the  others  had  worked  with  me  and 
did  not  like  me  any  better  than  I  liked  them, 
which  was  not  much.  Then  a  fourth  fellow 

108 


A    VISIT    FROM    RANGERS 

appeared  from  somewhere  in  the  shade,  and 
when  I  recognized  him  I  was  divided  between 
anger  and  distrust  at  this  invasion  of  our 
camp.  This  fourth  individual,  Belden  by 
name,  had  been  a  ranger,  and  as  he  had  been 
worthless,  and  a  hindrance  to  other  rangers,  I 
got  his  discharge.  It  had  been  an  object  of 
worry  to  me  that  after  his  discharge  he  still 
remained  on  the  preserve.  In  fact  all  these 
men  were  Mormons,  and  they  resented  the 
advent  of  Hiram,  Jim,  and  myself.  The  bone 
of  contention  was  that  the  forest  department 
had  put  us  over  them.  And  the  hard  feelings 
had  been  shared  even  by  the  forest  super- 
visor, who  was  strongly  in  sympathy  with 
native  rangers.  To  me  the  present  situation 
looked  as  if  these  men  had  been  sent  to  spy 
on  us,  or  they  had  undertaken  that  on  their 
own  account. 

"Hello,  fellows,"  I  said,  "what  are  you 
doing  out  here?  Thought  you  were  building 
a  cabin  at  Quaking- Asp." 

"We're  jest  pokin'  around,"  replied  one,  a 
man  named  Sells,  and  he  was  the  best  of  the  lot. 

"We    want    to    see    how   you   trap   them 
cougars,"  said  another. 
109 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

Belden  laughed  loudly.  "An'  me,  I'm 
sort  of  scoutin'  around,  too,  Leslie;  I've  got  a 
new  job." 

"  With  the  forest  service? "  I  queried. 

"Yep." 

"What  kind  of  a  job?" 

"I'm  keepin'  tab  on  all  the  rangers.  The 
Supervisor  says  it'll  go  hard  with  any  ranger 
ketched  with  fresh  venison." 

Belden  looked  meaningly  at  me.  I  thought 
the  fellow  was  lying  about  a  new  job,  still  I 
could  not  be  certain  as  to  that.  But  there 
was  no  doubt  about  the  gleam  in  his  eyes 
meaning  that  he  had  caught  me  breaking 
the  law. 

"  Belden,  we've  got  fresh  venison  in  camp — 
but  we  didn't  kill  it." 

"  Haw !     Haw !     Haw ! "  he  guffawed. 

It  was  hard  for  me  to  keep  my  temper. 
On  the  moment  I  was  glad  to  see  Hiram  and 
Jim  approaching.  Hiram  stopped  near  where 
the  lions  were  chained  and  I  heard  him  mutter : 
"  Wai,  what  in  the  tarnal  dickens  is  the  matter 
with  thet  lion?"  From  where  I  stood  I 
could  not  see  either  of  our  captives.  Jim 
lounged  into  camp,  and  as  he  glanced  with 
no 


A   VISIT    FROM    RANGERS 

keen  eyes  from  our  visitors  to  me  his  genial 
smile  faded. 

"  Shore  we've  got  company,"  he  drawled. 

I  would  have  replied  in  no  cordial  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  fact,  but  just  then  Hal  came 
out  of  the  tent,  and  sight  of  him  cut  short  my 
speech.  Hal  wore  a  broad  red  mark  across 
his  cheek,  and  any  one  could  have  seen  that  it 
was  a  mark  made  by  a  blow.  Moreover,  he 
trembled  either  with  excitement  or  anger,  and 
on  closer  view  I  saw  that  under  his  tan  he 
was  pale. 

"Hal!"  exclaimed  Ken,  sharply.  "What's 
the  matter  with  you?" 

"  Nothing.     I  'm  all  right. ' ' 

"  That's  not  so.  I'd  know  from  the  look  of 
you,  without  that  red  welt  on  your  face.  Who 
hit  you?  Hal — you  couldn't  have  gotten  in 
a  scrap  with  Navvy?" 

"  Nope — never  mind  how  I  got  the  welt.  I 
got  it  and  that's  enough,"  replied  Hal. 

Where  Hal  got  that  mark  did  not  appear 
any  great  mystery  to  me.  I  would  have  staked 
my  horse  that  Belden  had  given  the  blow. 

"Sells,"  I  demanded,  "which  one  of  you 
struck  the  lad?" 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Sells  removed  his  pipe  and  puffed  a  cloud 
of  smoke.  He  did  not  seem  in  any  hurry  to 
reply. 

"Speak  up,  man.  Who  hit  the  lad — - 
Belden ,  wasn  't  it  ?  " 

This  time  the  ranger  nodded. 

"What  for?  What  did  he  do?  .  .  .  Haven't 
you  a  tongue?  Talk!  I  want  to  know — " 

I  felt  Ken  Ward's  hand  on  my  arm  and  I 
hesitated.  He  took  one  long  step  forward. 

"This  boy  is  my  brother,"  he  said.  "Do 
I  understand  you  to  mean  one  of  you  hit  him?'* 

Again  Sells  nodded. 

"  Which  one  of  you?"  added  Ken. 

Sells  pointed  to  the  grinning  Belden.  Ken 
made  a  quick,  passionate  movement,  and  took 
another  long  step  that  seemed  involuntary; 
then  he  wheeled  to  his  brother. 

"  Hal,  what  have  you  done  this  time?  You 
promised  me  you'd  behave  if  I  brought  you 
out  West.  I  declare  I'm  ashamed  of  you. 
I'll  never—" 

"Cheese  it!  Shut  up!"  cried  Hal,  hotly. 
"You're  always  blaming  me.  How  do  you 
know  I  deserved  getting  slapped?  Do  I 
always  deserve  the  worst  of  everything  ? ' ' 

112 


A   VISIT   FROM    RANGERS 

"Nearly  always,  Hal,  I'm  sorry  to  say," 
returned  Ken,  gravely. 

"  Well,  this  is  one  of  the  few  times  when  I 
don't,  then,"  said  Hal,  sullenly. 

"  What  did  you  do? "  demanded  Ken. 

"  I  called  that  fellow  every  name  I  could  lay 
my  tongue  to,"  retorted  Hal,  pointing  a  quiv- 
ering finger  at  Belden.  "  I  called  him  a  liar 
and  a  coward.  Then  he  hit  me." 

"Why  did  you  call  him  names?" 

"He  saw  the  deer  meat  hanging  there  on 
the  tree  and  he  kept  saying  we  shot  the  deer. 
But  I  held  my  temper.  Then  he  got  to  teasing 
Tom  and  trying  to  hold  him  with  a  forked 
stick.  He  said  we  caught  the  lion  in  a  trap 
and  he  was  looking  for  trap-marks.  Tom 
batted  him  one,  scratching  him  a  little.  Then 
he  took  up  a  club — " 

At  this  juncture  Hiram  Bent  strode  into  the 
circle  and  he  roared:  "  Who  clubbed  thet  lion ? 
If  the  Injun—" 

The  old  hunter  was  angry  clear  through. 

"  Hold  on,  Hiram,"  I  interrupted.  "  We're 
getting  at  the  thing.  Hal  was  just  telling 
us.  Go  on,  lad." 

"Look  here,  Hal,"  spoke  up  Ken,  in  great 
"3 


THE   YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

earnestness,  "tell  the  absolute  truth.  Don't 
stretch.  Give  me  your  word.  Then  I'll  be- 
lieve you,  and  if  I  do,  so  will  Hiram  and  Dick 
and  Jim/' 

Hal  repeated  precisely  what  he  had  told  us 
before  Hiram's  interruption,  and  then  he  went 
on:  "Belden  took  up  a  club  and  beat  Tom 
over  the  head — beat  him  till  I  was  sure  Tom 
was  dead.  Then  I  couldn't  stand  it  longer, 
so  I  called  Belden  a  brute,  a  coward,  a  liar — 
everything  I  could  think  of.  So  he  hit  me, 
knocked  me  down,  and  kicked  me." 

"  Leslie — the  youngster's  tellin'  it  straight," 
said  Hiram.  "  Thet  cougar  is  all  bunged  up, 
an'  any  sneak  who  would  beat  a  chained  ani- 
mal would  hit  a  boy." 

The  old  hunter  then  turned  to  Belden. 
That  worthy  had  ceased  to  grin.  I  looked 
closely  at  him  to  see  if  he  had  been  drinking, 
but  it  was  not  that :  he  was  surely  sober  enough. 

"  Belden,  afore  I  say  anythin'  else  I'd  like 
to  know  what  you  mean  by  carryin'  on  this 
way,"  went  on  Hiram.  "Mebbe  you  think 
beat  in'  up  chained  cougars  an'  boys  as  are 
keepin'  camp  ain't  serious.  Wai,  I  reckon 
you'll  change  your  idee." 
114 


A   VISIT    FROM    RANGERS 

"Bent,  I'll  change  no  idees  of  mine,"  re- 
joined Belden.  "An*  one  idee  I  got  is  thet 
you  trapped  them  cougars.  An'  another  idee 
is  thet  I  ketched  you  killin'  deer.  An'  thet's 
agin  the  law.  I'm  agoin'  to  put  you  through 
for  it." 

For  answer  Hiram  strode  to  a  pine-tree  some 
twenty  paces  from  his  tent  and  took  down 
something  from  a  dead  snag.  As  he  returned  I 
saw  it  was  the  head  and  neck  of  the  yearling 
doe.  He  showed  it  to  Belden,  and  pointed 
out  the  laceration  made  by  the  teeth  of  the 
lion.  Belden  did  not  speak.  Then  Hiram 
showed  the  wound  to  the  other  rangers. 

"Sells,  you're  a  woodsman.  Now  what 
made  thet  wound?" 

"A  cougar  killed  thet  doe  an'  no  mistake," 
admitted  Sells. 

"Thar!"  The  old  hunter  threw  down  the 
deer  head  and  whirled  to  face  Belden.  I 
never  saw  a  man  any  more  furious  than  Hiram 
was,  holding  himself  in  control. 

"  I  ain't  carin*  a  tarnal  flip  what  sich  as  you 

think  of  my  capturin '  c  ougars .     But  f er  beat  in ' 

up  a  helpless  animal  I  care  this  much — you're 

wuss  than  the  youngster  called  you — you're 

"5 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

the  wust  dog  I  ever  seen.  An'  fer  hittin'  this 
youngster  I'm  goin'  to  pay  yot:  back  in — " 

Ken  Ward  caught  the  old  hunter's  arm. 
The  boy  was  white,  but  he  was  as  cool  as  ice, 
and  his  eyes  had  the  dark  flash  I  had  once  or 
twice  before  seen  in  them.  He  stepped  in 
front  of  Hiram  and  faced  Belden. 

"  Belden,  I'll  give  you  a  chance  to  beat  me 
up." 

"Hey?"  queried  Belden  in  stupid  surprise. 

Hiram  and  Jim  appeared  too  amazed  for 
speech;  and  as  for  me  I  saw  with  a  kind  of 
warm  thrill  what  was  coming  off. 

"Hey?"  mocked  Ken.  "What  do  you 
think  ?  I  mean  fight. ' ' 

Belden  kept  on  staring.  He  was  a  grown 
man  and  probably  could  not  conceive  the  idea 
of  a  boy  wanting  to  fight  him.  But  I  knew 
Ken  Ward,  and  I  saw,  too,  that  he  was  nearly 
as  big  as  Belden,  and  when  I  compared  the 
two  and  thought  of  Ken's  wonderful  agility 
and  strength  I  felt  the  call  of  battle  rise  within 
me.  Then  conscience  troubling  me,  I  made  a 
half-hearted  attempt  to  draw  Ken  back.  I 
was  too  late.  The  lad  reached  out  with  his 
hand — his  powerful  right  hand  that  had  ac- 
116 


A   VISIT    FROM    RANGERS 

quired  much  of  its  strength  in  gripping  base- 
balls— and  he  seized  Belden's  nose  between 
his  fingers.  It  was  no  wonder  he  did  it. 
Belden's  nose  was  long  and  red,  an  offensive 
kind  of  nose.  The  effect  was  startling.  Like 
a  mad  bull  Belden  roared.  Ken  pulled  him 
round,  this  way  and  that,  then  he  let  go  and 
squared  himself.  Bellowing  furiously,  the 
ranger  rushed  at  Ken.  The  lad  appeared  to 
step  aside  and  flash  into  swift  forward  action 
at  the  same  instant.  A  sharp  thud  rang  out 
and  Belden  stopped  in  his  rush  and  staggered. 
But  he  did  not  fall. 

Then  Ken  began  to  dance  around  the  ranger. 
Any  fight  always  roused  me  to  a  high  pitch  of 
excitement,  and  this  one  gripped  me  so  in- 
tensely that  I  could  scarcely  see  it.  But  then 
Ken  Ward  was  so  swift  in  action  that  even  in 
a  calm  moment  it  would  not  have  been  easy 
to  follow  his  motions.  I  saw  enough  to  know 
that  the  fight  he  had  made  with  the  Greaser  when 
I  was  bound  fast  was  as  nothing  to  this  one. 
Ken  appeared  to  be  on  all  sides  of  Belden  at 
once.  He  seemed  to  have  as  many  arms  as  a 
centipede  has  legs.  Belden's  wildly  swinging 
fists  hit  the  air.  The  way  his  head  jerked  up 
117 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

showed  the  way  Ken  was  hitting,  and  the 
sound  of  his  blows  rang  out  like  rapid  pistol- 
shots.  Belden's  swarthy  face  grew  red  and 
swollen.  All  at  once  I  seemed  to  hear  mingled 
yells  from  Hiram  and  Jim,  and  that  made  me 
conscious  that  I  was  yelling  myself.  Ken's 
gray  form  flashed  around  Belden  and  the 
rain  of  scientific  blows  went  on.  Suddenly 
Ken  stepped  back  and  swung  heavily.  Belden 
went  to  his  knees,  staggered  up,  only  to  be 
met  with  a  stunning  shock  that  laid  him  flat. 

He  stirred  laboriously,  groaned  and  cursed, 
tried  to  sit  up  and  fell  back.  He  was  bloody; 
his  nose  looked  like  a  red  cauliflower;  one 
eye  was  nearly  closed.  Ken  stood  erect 
panting  hard,  still  flaming-eyed,  still  unsatis- 
fied. His  face  showed  a  few  marks  of  conflict. 

Hiram  Bent  looked  down  at  Belden. 

"Dog-gone  it!  You  did  git  a  tarnal  good 
lickin'!  .  .  .  Hey?" 

This  good-humored  query  from  the  lately 
furious  Hiram  brought  the  rest  of  us  to  our 
senses. 


CHAPTER  X 

HAL 

PRESENTLY  Belden  got  to  his  feet.  He 
*  did  not  look  at  Ken  or  any  of  us,  and  went 
directly  for  his  horses.  He  saddled  and 
packed  with  hurried  hands.  It  showed  what 
the  humiliation  meant  to  him  as  well  as  what 
kind  of  a  fellow  he  was  that  he  rode  away 
without  a  word  to  his  companions. 

They  were  disposed  to  make  a  joke  of  it 
and  were  not  above  praising  Ken.  Soon 
afterward  they  put  up  a  tent  and  began 
preparations  for  supper.  I  certainly  had  no 
desire  for  their  company,  but  neither  had  I 
any  right  to  ask  them  to  move  on,  so  I  thought 
it  was  just  as  well  that  we  should  try  to  be 
friendly. 

"  If  you  all  don't  mind  we  want  to  see  you 
ketch  a  cougar,"  said  Sells. 

"Sartinly — glad  to  show  you,"  replied 
Hiram. 

9  119 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

And  shortly  we  were  laughing  and  talking 
around  the  camp-fire  just  as  if  there  had  not 
been  any  unpleasantness.  I  noticed,  however, 
that  Hal  did  not  speak  a  word  to  any  of  our 
visitors,  and  indeed  he  was  uncivil  enough  not 
to  reply  to  questions  they  put.  This  gave  me 
the  idea  that  Hal  had  not  told  all  of  what  had 
been  done  to  him  during  our  absence.  Cer- 
tainly he  was  not  the  kind  of  a  boy  to  blab 
things.  From  the  light  in  his  big  gray  eyes 
1  fancied  that  he  was  cherishing  a  righteous 
anger  against  these  invaders.  I  made  a  note, 
too,  of  how  intently  he  listened  to  all  they  said. 

"Look  a-here,  Bent,"  Sells  was  asking,  "is 
there  any  danger  of  them  cougars  gittin* 
loose?" 

"Wai,  sometimes  they  break  a  collar  or 
chain.  I  lose  probably  one  out  of  ten  thet 
way.  But  I  can't  tie  them  up  any  tighter, 
fer  they'd  choke  themselves  to  death." 

"  Burn  me  if  I  like  to  sleep  so  close  to 
cougars  as  this,"  went  on  Sells.  "  I  allus  wus 
scared  of  'em;  jest  can't  stand  fer  cats,  any 
kind,  nohow." 

"Nother  am  I  powerful  enraptured  at  the 
idee,"  remarked  one  of  his  companions. 


KEN  SEIZED  BELDEN'S  NOSE  BETWEEN  His  FINGERS 


HAL 

"Then  why  did  you  throw  up  the  tent  so 
close  to  them?"  demanded  Sells. 

"  Nary  danger,  f ellars, ' '  put  in  Hiram.  "  My 
cougars  won't  hurt  you  onless  you  git  in  their 
way.  Then  I  reckon  you'd  git  a  swipe." 

We  talked  and  smoked  around  the  camp- 
fire  for  an  hour  or  more.  Then  the  north 
wind  rose,  roaring  in  the  pines,  and  the  night 
air  grew  cold.  Soon  we  all  sought  our 
blankets. 

I  quickly  dropped  off  to  sleep.  Sooner 
or  later  after  that  I  was  awakened  by  a  terrible 
sound.  Sitting  up  with  a  violent  start  I  felt 
Ken's  hands  clasping  me  like  a  vise.  I  heard 
his  voice  but  could  not  distinguish  what  he 
said.  For  the  uproar  in  the  camp  made  hear- 
ing anything  else  impossible.  Blood-curdling 
shrieks,  yells  and  curses  mingled  with  sounds 
of  conflict.  They  all  came  from  the  rangers' 
tent.  By  the  pale  moonlight  I  saw  the  tent 
wavering  and  shaking.  Then  followed  the 
shrill  rending  of  canvas.  Hiram  emerged  from 
the  gloom  and  bounded  forward.  I  jumped 
up  eager  to  help,  but  ignorant  of  what  to  do, 
I  held  back.  Then  bang,  bang,  bang,  went  a 
revolver,  and  bullets  whistled  about. 

121 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Lay  low!"  roared  Hiram,  above  the 
tumult  in  the  tent. 

Promptly  I  pulled  Ken  with  me  behind  a 
pine  and  peeped  forth. 

To  make  the  din  worse  all  the  hounds  began 
to  bark  furiously.  Suddenly  there  came  a 
violent  shock  from  a  heavy  body  plunging 
against  the  inside  of  the  tent.  It  waved  this 
way  and  that,  then  collapsed.  From  the 
agitated  canvas  came  hoarse,  smothered  bel- 
lows. If  I  had  not  been  so  nonplussed  I 
would  have  given  up  to  laughter.  But  some- 
thing was  terribly  wrong  with  the  rangers.  I 
saw  a  dark  form  roll  from  under  the  tent,  rise 
and  flee  into  the  forest.  Then  another  emerged 
from  the  other  side.  The  yells  ceased  now,  to 
be  followed  by  loud  cries  of  some  one  in  pain. 

With  this  Hiram  ran  forward.  I  saw  him 
bend  over,  and  then  was  astounded  to  see  him 
straighten  up  and  begin  to  haul  away  on  some- 
thing. But  a  gray,  bounding  object  explained 
the  mystery.  Hiram  was  dragging  one  of 
the  cougars  back  from  the  demolished  tent. 

"By  George!  Ken,  one  of  the  lions  got 
loose,"  I  exclaimed,  "and  it  must  have  run 
right  into  the  rangers'  tent." 

122 


HAL 

" Great !"  replied  Ken  Ward. 

I  jumped  up  and  ran  to  help  Hiram,  but 
he  had  the  cougar  tied  when  I  got  to  him. 
Even  in  the  excitement  I  noticed  that  he  was 
untying  a  lasso  from  the  end  of  the  chain.  I 
looked  at  Hiram  and  he  looked  at  me. 

"  Don't  say  nothin', ' '  he  whispered.  "  Some- 
body tied  this  rope  in  the  chain,  then  pulled 
the  cougar  over  to  the  rangers'  tent.  I  found 
the  lasso  tied  to  the  tent-stake." 

"Whew!  What's  come  off?"  I  ejaculated. 
"Who  did  it?" 

"  How  on  earth  he  did  it  I  can't  reckon, 
but  I'll  bet  it  was  thet  tarnal  boy." 

"Hal?  ...  Impossible,  Hiram!" 

"Wai,  I  reckon  there  ain't  much  thet's 
impossible  fer  Ken  Ward's  brother.  .  .  .  Come 
on — somebody's  hurt — we  can  figure  it  out 
afterward." 

Jim  appeared,  and  then  two  men  emerged 
from  the  dark  shadow  of  pines.  One  was 
Sells.  Little  was  said  on  the  moment.  We 
lifted  the  tent  and  underneath  we  found  the 
other  ranger.  If  he  had  been  as  badly  hurt 
as  he  was  frightened  I  thought  surely  we  would 
presently  have  a  dead  ranger  on  our  hands. 
123 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

It  turned  out,  however,  that  when  we  washed 
the  blood  from  his  face  we  found  he  had  been 
badly  scratched  but  not  seriously  injured. 
And  as  neither  Sells  nor  the  other  ranger  had 
been  hurt  the  tension  of  the  moment  lessened, 
and  Hiram  particularly  appeared  greatly 
relieved. 

"I  woke  up,"  said  Sells,  "an*  seen  thet 
durned  cougar  jump  right  in  the  tent.  He  was 
quicker 'n  lightnin'  an'  he  began  to  leap  at  me. 
I  dodged  him,  an'  yellin'  like  mad  I  tried  to 
git  out.  But  every  time  I  got  near  the  tent 
door  the  cougar  made  at  me  an'  I  hed  to  dodge. 
Then  he  got  us  all  goin',  an'  there  was  no 
chanct  to  do  anythin'  but  roll  over  an'  jump 
an'  duck.  Pell  thro  wed  his  gun  an'  begin  to 
shoot,  an'  if  the  tent  hedn't  fallen  in  he'd 
plugged  one  of  us.  ...  I  jest  knowed  one 
of  them  cougars  would  rustle  us  last  night." 

Plain  it  was  that  Sells  had  no  suspicion  of  a 
trick.  This  relieved  me.  I  glanced  round  for 
Hal,  but  he  was  not  in  sight  and  I  supposed 
he  had  not  rolled  out  of  his  blankets.  Pres- 
ently all  was  quiet  again  in  camp,  except  that 
the  lions  were  restless  and  clanked  their  chains. 
Sells  and  his  companions  had  moved  away 
124 


HAL 

some  distance  under  the  pines.  Before  I  went 
to  sleep  again  I  told  Ken  what  Hiram  had  said 
about  Hal,  and  Ken  replied:  "Oh  yes!  I 
knew  whatever  it  was  Hal  did  it 5" 

"But  Jim  must  have  had  a  hand  in  it,"  I 
declared.  "How  could  Hal  drag  the  lion, 
even  if  he  had  the  nerve?" 

"  Dick,  that  boy  could  drag  a  rhinoceros 
around  if  by  it  he  could  get  even  with  some- 
body who  had  mistreated  him.  You  take  my 
word — those  rangers  did  something  to  Hal 
more  than  we  know." 

"  Well,  whatever  they  did  to  him  he's  square 
with  them.  Did  you  ever  hear  such  yelling? 
They  were  scared  wild." 

"Reminds  me  of  the  time  Greaser  and 
Herky- Jerky  got  mixed  up  with  my  bear-cub 
in  the  old  cabin  on  Penetier.  Only  this  was 
worse." 

We  soon  slept  again,  and  owing  to  the  break 
in  our  slumbers  did  not  awaken  until  rather 
late.  Sells  and  his  rangers  had  decided  they 
did  not  care  so  much  after  all  to  see  Hiram 
tie  up  a  lion,  and  with  the  rising  of  the  sun 
they  had  departed. 

"  Shore  it's  good  riddance,"  declared  Jim. 
"5 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Where's  Hal?"  asked  Ken. 

His  question  acquainted  me  with  the  fact 
that  Hal  was  missing.  At  once  Ken  appeared 
troubled. 

"Don't  worry,  youngster,"  assured  Hiram. 
"  Your  brother  will  turn  up  presently." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  this  morning?" 

"  Nary  a  hair  of  him,"  replied  Hiram. 

"Have  you,  Jim?" 

' '  I  shore  hevn  't .  An '  what 's  more  he  wasn  't 
in  bed  when  I  got  rustled  out  last  night  by  thet 
infernal  racket.  An'  he  didn't  come  back." 

"  Wai,  now,  thet's  new  on  me,"  said  Hiram, 
getting  serious. 

Ken  began  to  pace  up  and  down  before  the 
camp-fire.  "  If  anything  happens  to  Hal  how 
can  I  ever  face  my  father  again  ? ' ' 

"  See  hyar,  youngster.  I  reckon  your  father 
is  a  sensible  man,"  rejoined  Hiram.  "He 
knowed  things  was  goin'  to  happen  to  thet 
wild  kid,  an'  thet's  why  he  sent  him  with  you. 
Hal  will  get  his  eye  teeth  cut  out  hyar.  I 
calkilate  it'll  be  wise  fer  you  to  jest  stop 
worry  in',  an'  let  things  happen." 

"Shore,  shore,"  added  Jim,  earnestly. 

"  There's  a  good  deal  of  sense  in  what  Hiram 
126 


HAL 

says,"  I  said.  "No  doubt  Hal  is  hiding 
somewhere.  And  he'll  come  in  as  soon  as  he 
finds  out  the  rangers  have  gone.  .  .  .  Jim, 
weren't  you  in  that  trick  last  night?" 

"  I  shore  wasn't,"  replied  Jim,  complacently. 
I  knew  then  that  it  would  be  impossible  ever 
to  find  out  whether  or  not  he  had  really  aided 
Hal. 

"Hiram,  would  it  have  been  possible  for 
Hal  to  pull  off  t>hat  lion  stunt  all  by  himself?" 
I  inquired. 

The  old  hunter  looked  thoughtful. 

"Wai,  it  does  seem  onreasonable.  But  I 
ain't  doubtin'  it.  The  youngster  is  strong 
an'  a  dare-devil.  Then  he  has  watched  me 
handlin'  the  cougars.  He's  a  wonder  on 
imitation,  thet  boy.  It's  a  fact  thet  a  young 
cougar,  arter  he's  been  tied  up  fer  a  day  or 
so,  will  be  kinder  sluggish  fer  a  little  on  bein' 
dragged  round  agin.  Hell  hang  back,  an' 
not  begin  to  jump  an'  pull  an'  fight  till  he's 
waked  up  thoroughly.  It's  quite  possible,  I 
reckon,  thet  Hal  sneaked  up  to  the  tree,  loosed 
the  chain  an'  tied  a  rope  to  it.  Then  he 
dragged  the  cougar  over  to  the  rangers'  tent, 
tied  the  rope  to  the  tent-stake,  an'  then — 
127 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

wal,  I'm  balked.  How  did  he  git  the  cougar 
into  thet  tent  ?  He'll  hev  to  tell  us. ' ' 

"It's  a  wonder  no  one  was  killed,"  said 
Ken. 

"  It  shore  is,"  replied  Jim. 

"I  wish  he'd  come  in,"  went  on  Ken. 
" Only— what '11  he  do  next?" 

We  got  breakfast,  ate  it,  and  still  Hal  did 
not  put  in  appearance.  The  Navajo  came  in, 
however,  and  that  made  us  wonder  how  far 
he  had  been  from  the  camp.  Jim  was  of  the 
opinion  that  Navvy  had  been  so  scared  by  the 
uproar  that  he  had  run  till  he  dropped.  I 
observed  pine-needles  thick  in  Navvy's  black 
hair,  and  knew  he  had  slept  somewhere  under 
a  pine. 

Hiram  went  to  feed  the  hounds  and  almost 
instantly  I  heard  him  exclaim:  "Wal,  I'll  be 
dog-goned!" 

"  What's  the  matter,  Hiram?" 

"The  pup's  gone,  too.  He  didn't  break 
away.  He's  been  untied,  that's  sartin.  Per 
I  was  pertickler  to  fasten  him  tight.  He's 
been  crazy  to  run  off  an'  trail  somethin'.  The 
youngster  he's  took  him." 

Ken  marched  over  to  where  Hal  kept  his 
128 


HAL 

saddle  and  outfit.  ."  He  left  his  rifle  and  all 
the  rest  of  his  trappings." 

A  sudden  thought  made  me  grow  cold. 
"  Hiram,  mightn't  Sells  have  fooled  us?  Pre- 
tended he  didn't  know  the  trick,  and  then  got 
hold  of  Hal?  .  .  .  Those  Mormons  wouldn't 
think  much  of  dropping  him  over  the  rim." 

"Oh!  no!"  cried  Ken  Ward. 

Following  that  we  all  fell  silent,  and  in- 
stinctively looked  to  the  old  hunter  for  help 
or  assurance.  But  Hiram  appeared  much 
disturbed  in  mind.  All  at  once  a  little  shock 
went  over  his  tall  form,  making  him  suddenly 
rigid. 

"Listen!"  he  said. 

I  complied  with  all  my  ears,  but  heard 
nothing  except  the  wind  in  the  pines  and  the 
hammering  of  a  flicker  on  a  dead  branch. 

"  Shore — "  began  Jim. 

Hiram  held  up  a  finger  in  warning. 

"  Listen — with  the  puffs  of  wind." 

Then  followed  a  long  listening  silence. 
After  what  seemed  an  age  I  heard  a  faint  yelp 
of  a  hound.  It  was  so  low  that  it  was  almost 
indistinguishable.  Jim  heard  it,  too,  and  at 
last  Ken,  as  I  could  tell  by  their  faces.  We  all 

120 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

remained  silent,  still  held  by  Hiram's  uplifted 
finger. 

"  It's  the  pup,"  said  Hiram,  finally.  "  He's 
way  over  to  the  west.  I  reckon  he's  arter  a. 
coyote — or  else  he's  yelpin'  because  some- 
thin 's  happened  to —  Now,  fellars,  I'll  make  a 
bee-line  fer  whar  I  think  he  is.  If  I  let  out  a 
string  of  yells  you  all  come  a-runnin'  with  dogs 
an'  guns.  If  I  yell  onct  head  me  off  to  your 
left.  If  twice,  head  me  off  to  your  right." 

With  that  he  took  up  a  rifle  and  strode 
rapidly  off  into  the  forest.  Jim  had  nothing 
to  say,  and  I  did  not  look  at  Ken,  for  from 
Hiram's  unfinished  speech  it  looked  as  if  he 
feared  an  accident  had  befallen  Hal. 

We  waited  moments  and  moments.  Once 
Ken  imagined  he  heard  a  shout,  and  then  Jim 
turned  a  doubtful  ear  to  the  west,  but  I  as- 
sured them  they  were  mistaken.  Presently 
we  were  electrified  by  rapid  yells  far  off  in  the 
forest,  yet  clear  and  ringing  on  the  wind.  Jim 
unchained  the  hounds  and  strung  a  rope 
through  their  collars  while  Ken  and  I  gathered 
up  guns  and  ropes.  The  Navajo  was  as  ex- 
cited as  we  were,  and  he  followed  us  out  of 
camp,  but  soon  lagged  behind.  We  ran  across 
130 


HAL 

the  level  gkdes  and  through  the  brown  aisles, 
and  up  and  down  the  hollows. 

Jim  called  a  halt  and  pealed  out  a  signal  to 
Hiram.  The  answer  came  and  again  we  ran. 
The  hounds  had  become  excited  by  this  un- 
usual proceeding;  they  barked  and  plunged 
to  get  away  from  Jim.  Ken  distanced  us,  and 
Jim  yelled  for  him  to  wait.  When  we  caught 
up  with  him  once  more  Jim  sent  out  a  cry. 
This  time  Hiram's  answer  proved  we  were 
traveling  off  to  the  right,  so  we  sheered  round 
and  hurried  on.  Openings  in  the  green-black 
wall  of  pines  showed  me  that  we  were  nearing 
the  rim.  The  hollows  grew  deeper  and  had 
to  be  headed,  which  change  of  direction  threw 
us  out  of  line. 

Jim's  next  signal  drew  a  stentorian  blast 
from  the  old  hunter,  and  that  caused  us  to 
run  with  all  we  had  left  in  us.  Then  at  the 
end  of  a  long  aisle  we  saw  Hiram  waving  to 
us  and  we  had  a  mad  race  that  Ken  won  by 
several  rods. 

I  stopped,  panting  for  breath,  and  surveyed 
the  glade  with  quick  eyes.  At  the  same 
moment  the  pack  of  hounds  burst  into  wild 
clamor. 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  There's  Hal ! ' '  shouted  Ken,  in  a  glad  voice. 

I  saw  the  lost  lad  sitting  composedly  on  a 
log.  Next  I  saw  the  pup.  He  was  quite 
beside  himself,  yelping,  leaping,  and  his  nose 
pointed  straight  upward.  Following  the  di- 
rection thus  indicated  I  looked  up  in  a  short 
dead  pine-tree  to  see  a  snarling  lion. 


CHAPTER  XI 

HIRAM    CALLS    ON   KEN 

THE  full  wild  chorus  of  the  hounds  mingled 
with  our  yells  of  exultation.  Prince  stood 
on  his  hind  legs  and  pawed  the  air  in  his 
eagerness  to  get  to  the  lion.  Mux-Mux,  the 
old  war-dog,  had  as  usual  lost  his  reason. 

When  we  had  calmed  down  somewhat 
Hiram  said:  "It's  another  two-year-old,  an' 
fair-sized.  Fellars,  thet's  the  best  tree  fer 
our  ropin'  purposes  I  ever  seen  a  cougar  in. 
Spread  out  now  an'  surround  him,  an'  keep 
lively  an'  noisy." 

When  Hiram  swung  himself  on  the  first 
stubby  branch  of  the  pine,  the  lion,  some 
fifteen  feet  above,  leaped  to  another  limb,  and 
the  one  he  had  left  cracked,  swayed,  and  broke. 
It  fell  directly  upon  Hiram,  the  blunt  end 
striking  his  head  and  knocking  him  out  of  the 
tree.  Fortunately,  he  landed  on  his  feet; 
otherwise  there  would  surely  have  been  bones 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

broken.  He  appeared  stunned,  and  reeled  so 
that  Jim  caught  him.  The  blood  poured  from 
a  wound  in  his  head. 

This  sudden  shock  sobered  us  instantly. 
On  examination  we  found  a  long,  jagged  cut 
in  Hiram's  scalp.  We  bathed  it  with  water 
from  my  canteen  and  with  snow  Jim  procured 
from  a  near-by  hollow,  eventually  stopping 
the  bleeding.  I  insisted  on  Hiram  coming 
to  camp  to  have  the  wound  properly  dressed, 
and  he  insisted  on  having  it  bound  with  a 
bandanna. 

"  I  reckon  it  doesn't  amount  to  much,"  said 
Hiram.  "But  I'm  a  little  dizzy,  an'  better 
not  climb  any  more.  .  .  .  Wai,  youngster, 
hyar's  whar  I  call  on  you." 

He  directed  this  last  remark  toward  Ken. 

"What— what?"  stammered  Ken. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  up  an'  slip  the  rope  over 
the  cougar's  head.  We'll  do  the  rest." 

Ken's  face  went  first  red,  then  white.  He 
gave  a  kind  of  eager  gasp  and  a  wild  start 
at  once.  He  stared  at  the  old  hunter  and  it 
was  a  full  moment  before  his  natural  color 
returned. 

"  You  want — me  to  rope  him?" 


HIRAM    CALLS    ON    KEN 

"Sartinly.  You  are  supple  an'  quick,  an* 
with  me  to  tell  you  what  to  do,  the  job  can  be 
done  better 'n  if  I  went  up  arter  him.  Don't 
be  scared  now,  Ken.  If  he  gits  sassy  up  thar 
I'll  warn  you  in  plenty  of  time." 

Without  a  word  Ken  took  the  lasso  and  be- 
gan to  climb  the  pine.  Hal  Ward  stood  as  if 
petrified;  only  his  eyes  seemed  alive,  and  they 
were  wonderful  to  behold.  I  appreciated 
what  the  situation  meant  to  the  boy — he  had 
not  believed  Ken's  stories  of  an  old  hunter 
roping  wild  beasts,  and  here  was  Ken  himself 
about  to  perform  the  miracle! 

"Not  so  fast,  youngster,"  called  Hiram. 
"Don't  crowd  him.  It's  hard  to  tell  what 
move  he'll  make  next,  an'  thar's  the  danger." 
The  cougar  changed  his  position,  growled, 
spat,  clawed  the  twigs,  and  kept  the  tree- 
trunk  between  him  and  Ken. 

"Wait — he's  too  close  to  the  tree,"  said 
Hiram.  "  You've  got  to  chase  him  out  on  a 
limb.  It'll  be  best  for  you  to  git  a  little  above 
him,  Ken.  Try  an'  scare  him.  Break  off  a 
branch  an'  throw  at  him." 

Ken  was  eighteen  feet  below  the  cougar,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  tree.  He  broke  off  a 
10  135 


THE   YOUNG   LION   HUNTER 

snag  and  thrashed  and  pounded;  then  throw* 
ing  it  he  hit  the  beast  square  in  the  side. 
There  was  an  explosion  of  spits  and  snarls 
and  hisses. 

"Thet's  the  way,"  yelled  Hiram.  "Make 
him  think  you're  goin'  to  kill  him.  Go  on  up 
now,  hurry!  Don't  hesitate.  He'll  back  out 
on  thet  thick  branch." 

It  surely  must  have  tried  Ken's  nerve  to 
obey  the  hunter.  I  thought  that  Ken  could 
have  been  excused  if  he  had  not  obeyed.  But 
he  climbed  on  and  slowly  the  cougar  backed 
out  on  the  limb. 

'*  Shore,  Ken,  you're  more  at  home  in  thet 
tree  than  the  critter  himself,"  cried  Jim. 

And  so  it  really  appeared,  for  Ken's  move- 
ments were  rapid  and  certain,  his  lithe,  power- 
ful form  seemed  to  glide  up  between  the 
branches  without  effort,  and  the  lion  was 
awkward  and  slow,  plainly  showing  he  feared 
he  might  fall. 

"Thar,  Ken,  thet '11  do,"  shouted  Hiram, 
as  Ken  reached  a  point  a  little  above  the 
cougar.  "  Now  you're  right.  Make  a  noose, 
not  too  big,  an*  sort  of  pitch  it.  ...  Try 
again,  youngster,  an'  be  deliberate.  You're 
136 


HIRAM    CALLS   ON    KEN 

nervous.  You're  perfectly  safe,  'cause  if  he 
gits  a  notion  to  start  fer  you  jest  climb  up 
farther.  He'll  never  f oiler  you  up.  .  .  .  Thar! 
.  .  .  You  ketched  him  thet  time.  Whoop!" 

We  all  whooped,  and  I  thought  Jim  Williams 
would  stand  on  his  head.  He  had  come  to 
exhibit  the  most  extraordinary  delight  in  the 
achievements  of  the  lads. 

"  Draw  the  noose  tight.  .  .  .  Jest  pull  easy- 
like,  fer  he's  bitin'  at  the  rope,  an'  if  you  jerk 
too  hard  you'll — Thar!  I  could  hev  done  no 
better  myself.  Come  down  now.  .  .  .  No, 
don't  climb  down.  Slide  down  on  the  rope." 

Ken  had  not  spoken  a  word  since  he  had 
gone  up  the  pine,  and  now  he  turned  his  tense 
white  face  down  to  us,  and  looked  as  if  he  had 
not  heard  aright. 

"Slide  down  the  rope,"  yelled  Hiram. 
"It'll  hold." 

With  that  Ken  gave  the  lasso  a  strong  pull 
and  the  lion  braced  himself.  Then  Ken 
stepped  off  the  limb  and  slid  down  the  lasso, 
hand  over  hand,  while  the  lion  held  his  weight 
with  apparent  ease.  Ken  was  breathing  hard 
and  he  had  the  expression  of  a  man  whom 
strong,  thrilling  excitement  had  carried  through 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

a  deed  the  reality  of  which  he  scarcely  ap- 
preciated. 

"Make  your  noose  ready,"  yelled  Hiram 
to  Jim. 

I  had  dropped  my  rope  to  help  them  pull 
the  animal  from  his  perch.  The  branches 
broke  in  a  shower;  then  the  lion,  hissing, 
snarling,  whirling,  plunged  down.  He  nearly 
jerked  the  rope  out  of  our  hands,  but  we 
lowered  him  and  then  Hiram  noosed  his  hind 
paws  in  a  flash. 

' '  Make  fast  your  rope, ' '  shouted  he.  ' '  Thar, 
thet's  good!  Now  let  him  down — easy." 

As  soon  as  the  lion  touched  ground  we  let 
go  the  lasso,  which  whipped  up  and  over  the 
branch.  He  became  a  round,  yellow,  rapidly 
moving  ball.  Jim  was  the  first  to  catch  the 
loose  lasso  and  he  checked  the  rolling  cougar. 
Hiram  leaped  to  assist  him  and  the  two  of 
them  straightened  out  the  struggling  animal, 
while  I  swung  another  noose.  On  the  second 
throw  I  caught  a  front  paw, 

"Pull  hard!       Stretch    her    out!"    yelled 

Hiram.     He  grasped  up  a  stout  piece  of  wood 

and  pushed  it  at  the  lion.     He  caught  it  in 

his  mouth,  making  the  splinters  fly,     Hiram 

138 


HIRAM    CALLS    ON    KEN 

shoved  the  head  of  the  beast  back  on  the 
ground  and  pressed  his  brawny  knee  on  the 
bar  of  wood. 

"The  collar!  The  collar!  Quick!"  he  called. 

I  threw  the  chain  and  collar  to  him,  which 
in  a  moment  he  had  buckled  on. 

"Thar,  we've  got  him!"  he  said.  "It's 
only  a  short  way  over  to  camp,  so  we'll  drag 
him  without  muzzlin'." 

As  he  rose  the  lion  lurched,  and,  reaching 
for  him,  fastened  its  fangs  in  his  leg.  Hiram 
roared.  Jim  and  I  yelled.  And  Ken,  though 
frightened,  was  so  obsessed  with  the  idea  of 
getting  a  picture  that  he  began  to  fumble 
with  the  shutter  of  his  camera. 

"Grab  the  chain!  Pull  him  off!"  bawled 
Hiram. 

I  ran  in  and  took  up  the  chain  with  both 
hands,  and  tugged  with  all  my  might.  Jim, 
too,  had  all  his  weight  on  a  lasso.  Between 
the  two  of  us  we  choked  the  hold  of  the  lion 
loose,  but  he  tore  Hiram's  leather  legging. 
Then  I  dropped  the  chain  and  jumped. 

"Hyar!  Hyarf"  exploded  Hiram  to  Ken. 
"  Do  you  think  more  of  a  picture  than  savin' 
my  life?"  Having  expressed  this  not  UB- 


THE    YOUNG   LION    HUNTER 

reasonable  protest,  he  untied  the  lasso  that 
Jim  had  made  fast  to  a  small  sapling. 

Then  we  three  men,  forming  points  of  a 
triangle  around  an  animated  center,  began 
a  march  through  the  forest  that  for  variety 
of  action  and  uproar  beat  any  show  I  ever 
saw. 

So  rare  was  it  that  the  Navajo  came  out 
of  hiding  and,  straightway  forgetting  his 
reverence  and  fear,  began  to  execute  a  ghost 
dance,  or  war  dance,  or  at  any  rate  some  kind 
of  an  Indian  dance,  along  the  side  lines. 

There  were  moments  when  the  lion  had  Jim 
and  me  on  the  ground  and  Hiram  wobbling; 
others  when  he  ran  on  his  bound  legs  and 
chased  the  two  in  front  and  dragged  the  one 
behind;  others  when  he  came  within  an  ace 
of  getting  his  teeth  into  somebody. 

We  had  caught  a  tartar.  We  dared  not  let 
him  go,  and  though  Hiram  evidently  ordered 
it,  no  one  made  his  rope  fast  to  a  tree.  There 
was  no  chance.  The  lion  was  in  the  air  three 
parts  of  the  time  and  the  fourth  he  was  in- 
visible in  dust.  The  lassos  were  each  thirty 
feet  long,  but  even  with  that  ~Te  could  just 
barely  keep  out  of  reach. 
140 


HIRAM   CALLS    ON    KEN 

Then  came  the  climax,  as  it  always  comes 
in  a  lion  hunt,  unexpectedly  and  with  light- 
ning swiftness.  We  were  nearing  the  bottom 
of  the  second  hollow,  well  spread  out,  lassos 
taut,  facing  one  another.  I  stumbled  and  the 
lion  leaped.  The  weight  of  both  brought 
Jim  over,  sliding  and  slipping,  with  his  rope 
slackening.  The  leap  of  the  lion  carried  him 
within  reach  of  Hiram;  and  as  he  raised  him- 
self the  cougar  reached  a  big  paw  for  him  just 
as  Jim  threw  all  his  strength  and  bulk  on  his 
lasso. 

The  seat  of  Hiram's  trousers  came  away 
with  the  claws  of  the  lion.  Then  he  fell 
backward,  overcome  by  Jim's  desperate  lunge. 
Hiram  sprang  up  with  the  velocity  of  an  Arab 
tumbler,  and  his  scarlet  face,  working  spas- 
modically, and  his  moving  lips,  showed  how 
utterly  unable  he  was  to  give  expression  to  his 
rage.  I  had  a  stitch  in  my  side  that  nearly 
killed  me,  but  laugh  I  would  if  I  died  for  it. 

But  it  was  no  laughing  matter  for  Hiram. 
He  volleyed  and  thundered  at  us. 

All  the  while,  however,  we  had  been  running 
from  the  lion,  which  brought  us,  before  we 
realized  it,  right  into  camp.  Our  captive 

141 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

lions  cut  up  fearfully  at  the  hubbub,  and  the 
horses  stampeded  in  terror. 

"  Whoa ! ' '  yelled  Hiram,  whether  to  us  or  the 
struggling  cougar  no  one  knew.  But  Navvy 
thought  Hiram  addressed  the  cougar. 

"Whoa!"  repeated  Navvy.  "No  savvy 
whoa!  No  savvy  whoa!"  which  proved  con- 
clusively that  the  Navajo  had  understanding 
as  well  as  wit. 

Soon  we  had  another  captive  safely  chained 
and  growling  away  in  tune  with  the  others. 
I  went  back  to  untie  the  hounds,  to  find  them 
sulky  and  out  of  sorts  from  being  so  uncere- 
moniously treated.  They  noisily  trailed  the 
lion  into  camp,  where,  finding  him  chained, 
they  gave  up  in  disgust. 

Hiram  soon  recovered  from  his  anger  and 
laughed  loud  and  long  at  what  he  considered 
the  most  disgraceful  trick  he  had  ever  had 
played  on  him  by  a  cougar. 

Then  as  we  sat  in  the  shade  resting,  well 
content  with  ourselves,  Hiram  and  Jim  and 
Ken  began  to  fire  questions  at  Hal.  The  lad 
was,  as  usual,  not  inclined  to  talk.  But  the 
old  hunter's  admiration  and  Jim  Williams' 
persuasive  questions  at  length  proved  too 
142 


HIRAM    CALLS    ON    KEN 

much  for  Hal.  His  story  of  getting  the  lion 
to  the  tent  of  the  rangers  tallied  precisely 
with  the  manner  in  which  Hiram  had  ex- 
plained it. 

"Wai,  I  reckoned  on  thet,"  said  Hiram. 
"  But,  youngster,  how  did  you  ever  git  the  lion 
inside  the  rangers'  tent?  Thet  stumps  me." 

Hal  appeared  surprised. 

"Why,  I  didn't  put  the  lion  in  the  tent. 
And  the  lion  didn't  go  in  the  tent.  When  I 
tied  the  lasso  to  the  tent-stake  Tom  began  to 
wake  up  and  buck.  He  lunged  back  near  the 
door  of  the  tent  and  began  to  roar  and  spit. 
Just  then  I  guess  Sells  woke  up  and  began  to 
bawl.  I  crawled  away  and  got  behind  a  tree. 
Then  I  watched.  It  looked  to  me  as  if  the 
rangers  just  got  up  and  ran  here  and  there 
with  the  tent  over  them.  Gee!  but  didn't 
they  howl.  But  I  know  positively  that  the 
lion  was  not  in  the  tent  at  all." 

"How  on  earth  did  that  ranger  get  all 
scratched  up  ? "  I  asked. 

"  'Feared  to  me  them  scratches  were  sorter 
unlike  cougar  scratches,"  remarked  Hiram. 
"  Thet  fellar  scratched  himself  wrastlin'  round. ' ' 

"  Shore,  then,  thet  story  oi  Sells  was  a  big 
143 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

yarn.  Why,  the  way  he  talked  you'd  thought 
the  tent  was  full  of  cougars,"  said  Jim. 

"  I  reckon  Sells  lied,  but  he  believed  what  he 
said.  Probably  he  waked  up  an'  seein'  the 
cougar  between  the  flaps  of  the  tent  he  was 
so  scared  thet  he  imagined  all  the  rest.  An* 
of  course  his  yellin'  thet  way  was  enough  to 
scare  the  other  rangers  into  fits.  Why,  I  was 
scared  myself." 

We  had  a  good  laugh  at  the  expense  of 
Sells  and  his  companions,  and  our  conviction 
was  that  they  had  paid  dearly  for  their  spying 
visit. 

"Wai,  then  what  did  you  do?"  went  on 
Hiram. 

"  I  untied  one  of  the  hounds,  the  first  I  got 
my  hands  on,"  replied  Hal.  "  I  wanted  to  go 
off  in  the  woods,  because  I  thought  the  rangers 
would  find  out  I  put  up  the  job  on  them.  And 
I  wanted  company,  so  I  took  the  dog.  I  sat 
up  awhile  and  then  fell  asleep.  When  I 
awoke  the  woods  were  getting  gray.  It  was 
near  daylight.  The  pup  had  left  me,  and 
presently  I  heard  him  barking  way  off  in  the 
woods.  I  went  after  him  and  when  I  found 
him  he  had  the  lion  treed.  That's  all." 

144 


HIRAM   CALLS    ON    KEN 

"Oh,  that's  all,  eh?"  inquired  Ken,  with  a 
queer  look  at  his  brother.  "Well,  I  hope  it 
holds  you  for  a  while." 

"  Youngster,  I  can't  find  the  heart  to  scold 
you  now,"  said  Hiram,  soberly.  "But  you 
was  careless  of  yourself  an'  the  feelin's  of 
others." 

"Shore,  kid,  you  was  plumb  bad,"  added 
Jim.  "  As  it  turned  out  thet  lion  stunt  tickled 
me  most  co  death.  It  shore  did.  But  mebbe 
the  luck  of  it  was  accident.  Don't  pull  off 
no  more  tricks  like  thet." 

I  added  my  advice  to  that  of  the  others,  but 
I  observed  that  Hal,  though  he  appeared  con- 
trite and  subdued,  did  not  make  any  rash 
promise  as  to  future  behavior. 


CHAPTER  XII 

NAVVY'S  WATERLOO 

THAT  night  we  were  sitting  around  the  camp- 
fire,  and  Hiram  was  puffing  at  his  pipe  in  a 
way  that  seemed  rather  favorable  for  the  tell- 
ing of  a  story  he  had  long  promised  the  boys. 

It  was  an  unusually  cool  night,  so  cool  that 
we  all  hugged  the  fire  except  Hal.  He  hung 
back  in  the  shadow.  This  action  I  would 
scarcely  have  noted  particularly  had  he  not 
made  elaborate  efforts  to  attract  attention 
to  some  real  or  pretended  task.  I  had  come 
to  regard  Hal  with  considerable  doubt,  and 
felt  safer  to  watch  him  from  a  distance. 

Navvy  sat  right  upon  the  fire,  stolid  as 
usual,  with  his  bright  black  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
red  embers.  From  time  to  time  he  puffed 
at  a  cigarette.  Ken  had  a  seat  back  of  the 
Indian,  just  out  of  the  severest  heat,  and  he 
left  it  occasionally  to  stir  and  rake  some  coals 
over  a  potato  he  was  baking; 
146 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

"It's  shore  fine  round  the  camp-fire,'* 
remarked  Jim,  spreading  his  hands  to  the 
blaze. 

"Thar's  snow  in  the  wind,"  said  Hiram. 
"  It  reminds  me — ' ' 

Just  then  Ken  poked  the  embers  again. 
Startling  as  a  flash  of  lightning  the  camp-fire 
blew  up  in  a  blinding  flare.  It  burst  into  a 
huge  light,  and  exploded  with  a  boom  into 
millions  of  sparks.  Pieces  of  burning  wood 
flew  every  way.  Red  embers  and  hot  ashes 
and  showers  of  sparks  covered  us.  I  heard 
the  Indian  yell,  and  Ken  yelled  still  louder. 
Then  came  black  darkness. 

We  were  all  threshing  about,  scared  out  of 
our  wits,  and  trying  to  beat  the  fire  from  our 
burning  clothes.  That  was  a  pretty  lively 
moment.  When  the  excitement  quieted  down 
a  little  I  heard  Jim's  wrathful  voice.  Hiram 
was  so  astounded  he  could  not  be  angry. 

"  Dog-gone  me! "  he  ejaculated.  "  What  in 
the  tarnal  dickens  was  thet?  Youngster,  was 
thet  a  potato  you  was  bakin'  or  a  dinnamite 
bomb?" 

"By  George!"  declared  Ken,  breathing 
hard.  "  You've  got  one  on  me!  I've  no  idea 
147 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

what  happened.     Make  a  light.     I'm  burned 
alive." 

It  developed  presently,  when  Hiram  got  a 
fire  blazing  some  yards  distant  from  the  dan- 
gerous camp-fire  site,  that  Ken  had  been 
pretty  severely  burned.  His  face  was  black 
with  charcoal.  It  took  several  moments  for 
us  to  put  out  the  burning  holes  in  his  shirt 
and  trousers.  Ken's  hands  trembled,  and 
when  he  washed  the  black  from  his  face  we 
saw  that  he  was  pale.  He  had  been  badly 
frightened,  but  fortunately  had  escaped  serious 
injury. 

For  a  little  while  we  all  talked  at  once  so 
that  I  could  hardly  grasp  anything  we  said. 
The  Indian  came  warily  out  of  the  darkness, 
and  this  was  the  first  we  had  seen  of  him  since 
the  explosion.  We  had  forgotten  all  about 
him.  He  had  been  sitting  near  the  fire,  but, 
though  apparently  more  frightened  than  Ken, 
he  had  not  been  so  badly  burned. 

"  Hey!  Hal,  where  are  you?"  called  Ken. 

"  Here,"  came  a  response  from  the  wood-pile. 

"Are  you  all  right?" 

"  Sure.     Never  touched  me,"  replied  Hal. 

"  Scared  you  though,  111  bet." 
148 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

"  It'd  take  more  than  a  busting  log  of  fire- 
wood to  scare  me. ' ' 

Ken  was  silent.  We  were  all  silent,  revolv- 
ing Hal's  cool  explanation  of  the  explosion. 

"Oh-h — it  would!"  finally  exclaimed  Ken, 
and  there  was  a  world  of  meaning  in  his 
peculiar  tone  of  voice. 

Hiram  growled  low  and  deep.  Jim  was 
shaking  in  silent  mirth.  And  the  Navajo 
was  staring  from  one  to  the  other  of  us,  as  if 
he  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  such  com- 
pany. He  kept  feeling  his  shirt,  and  this 
action  led  me  to  the  discovery  that  his  shirt 
was  wet.  Not  only  was  it  wet,  but  hot. 

"Hiram,  the  Indian's  shirt  is  all  wet,  and 
mighty  hot,  too,"  I  said.  "Did  you  have  a 
pot  of  water  on  the  fire?  It  might  have 
tipped  and  caused  the  blow-up." 

It  was  plain  from  the  fact  that  Hiram  did 
not  trust  his  memory,  and  went  to  look  over 
his  outfit  of  pans  and  pots,  that  he  was  much 
disturbed  in  mind. 

"Mebbe — mebbe,"  he  said,  as  he  fumbled 
among  them.  ' '  Dog-gone  it ! — no !  Hyar  they 
all  are,  an'  nary  one  wet." 

"Jim,  can  you  smell  powder?"  I  asked. 
149 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  No.  Thet  shore  must  have  been  a  bustin' 
log,"  replied  Jim. 

"That  was  a  steam  explosion,  my  man,"  I 
replied.  "  Somebody  put  a  sealed  fruit-can  in 
the  fire,  or  buried  a  jar  of  water  in  the  ashes." 

No  more  was  said  on  the  moment,  but  later, 
when  Hal  and  Jim  were  tying  up  the  dogs, 
Ken  broke  out  emphatically: 

"  Another  job  of  the  kid's !  Whatever  it  was 
it  certainly  got  me.  I  was  never  so  scared  in 
my  life.  Hiram,  isn't  there  any  way  we  can 
scare  Hal?  It's  got  to  be  done." 

"Wai,  youngster,  I'll  think  on  it." 

"  Let's  play  a  trick  on  Hal,  give  him  a  dose 
of  his  own  medicine.  Hiram,  it's  a  wonder 
to  me  he  hasn't  done  something  to  you  and 
Dick.  He  will  yet." 

"  Wai,  youngster,  I  reckon  you'll  find  Leslie 
an'  me  accomplices  in  any  reasonable  trick  on 
thet  thar  lad." 

"  It'll  be  great.  .  .  .  But  what  hell  do  to 
us,  if  he  ever  finds  it  out,  will  be  a-plenty." 

By  this  time  Ken  seemed  obsessed  with  his 
idea,  yet  all  the  while  he  showed  a  strange 
half-reluctance,  as  if  he  bore  in  mind  Hal's 
remarkable  powers  of  retaliation. 
150 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

"  But  how? ' '  he  asked.  "  Can  we  coax  Jim 
into  the  scheme?" 

"Leave  that  to  me,  Ken,"  I  said.  "Jim 
would  fall  victim  to  any  fun.  Now,  we'll 
get  Jim  to  fire  Hal  out  of  his  bed,  and  we'll  all 
refuse  to  take  him  in  ours  on  some  pretext  or 
other.  Then  the  Navajo  will  naturally  gravi- 
tate to  Hal,  and  we'll  find  some  way  to  scare 
him." 

Next  morning  I  found  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity, wherein  I  approached  Jim  with  my 
proposition  and  won  him  over  easily.  He  had 
a  weakness  of  that  sort. 

We  hunted  that  day,  and  at  supper  Jim 
groaned  and  took  as  much  trouble  in  sitting 
down  as  if  his  leg  was  in  splints. 

"  What's  wrong  with  you? "  inquired  Hiram, 
with  extraordinary  sympathy. 

"  It's  my  leg." 

"Wai?" 

"You  know  I  told  you.  It's  thet  place 
where  Hal  has  been  kickin'  me  every  night 
in  his  sleep." 

"Wha — at?"  stammered  Hal.  His  eyes 
opened  wide. 

"  Lad,  I'm  sorry  to  hev  to  hurt  your  feel- 
11  151 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

in's,"  replied  Jim,  gently.  "But  I've  shore 
stood  it  as  long  as  I  could.  You're  one  of 
them  nightmare  sleepers,  an'  when  you  git 
after  anythin',  or  anythin'  gits  after  you,  then 
you  kick.  I  never  seen  a  broncho  thet  could 
hold  a  candle  to  you.  No  matter  how  you 
lay,  on  your  side  or  back  or  belly,  you  can 
kick,  an'  allus  in  the  same  place.  I  was 
thro  wed  from  a  horse  onct  an'  hurt  this  leg, 
an'  right  there's  where  you've  been  kickin' 
me." 

Hal  looked  as  if  he  wanted  to  cry.  He 
seemed  unmistakably,  genuinely  ashamed  of 
himself. 

"  Oh,  Jim,  I  know  I  have  crazy  dreams  and 
thrash  about  in  my  sleep.  Why — why  didn't 
you  kick  back — kick  me  out  of  bed  ? ' ' 

"  Shore,  lad,  you  needn't  feel  bad  about  it. 
I  ain't  blamin'  you.  I  realize  we're  havin' 
some  pretty  warm  times  after  these  cougars, 
enough  to  make  any  fellar  hev  nightmares." 

"  I  won't  trouble  you  again  that  way,"  said 
Hal,  earnestly.  "I'll  sleep  somewhere  else. 
.  .  .  Hiram,  can  I  come  in  your  tent — way 
over  on  one  side,  far  from  you?" 

"Youngster,  I  wish  you  hedn't  asked  me," 
152 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

replied  Hiram,  in  apparent  distress.  "Per 
I've  got  to  refuse.  I'm  gittin'  old,  Hal,  an' 
I  must  hev  my  rest.  You'd  keep  me  awake." 

Pride  and  mortification  held  Hal  back  from 
further  appeal.  He  finished  his  supper  with- 
out another  word.  Then  he  took  the  axe  and 
cutting  down  some  small  pines  began  to  make 
a  shack.  Navvy  got  so  interested  that  he 
offered  to  help,  and  to  our  great  delight,  when 
the  shack  was  completed  Hal  pointed  to  it  and 
asked  the  Indian  to  share  it  with  him. 

The  next  day  we  had  some  strenuous  chases; 
the  hounds  split  on  fresh  trails,  and  we  were 
separated  from  one  another.  One  by  one  we 
got  back  to  camp,  and  it  was  a  mooted  question 
which  were  the  most  worn  out,  hunters  or 
hounds.  It  was  about  dark  when  Jim  came 
riding  in. 

"Fellars,  you  shore  missed  the  wind-up,'* 
he  said,  throwing  the  skin  of  a  cougar  on  the 
ground. 

"Wai,  dog-gone  it,  you  hed  to  kill  one!" 
exclaimed  Hiram. 

"  Shore.  Curley  and  Tan  treed  thet  one,  an' 
I  yelled  fer  you  till  I  lost  my  voice.  He 
started  down,  finally,  an'  as  I  was  afraid  he'd 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

kill  a  dog  I  hed  to  kill  him.  When  I  got  the 
skin  I  started  to  work  up  to  the  place  I  left 
my  hoss.  It's  bad  climbin'.  I  got  on  a  side 
of  a  cliff  an'  saw  where  I  could  work  out,  if  I 
could  climb  a  smooth  place.  So  I  tried. 
There  was  little  cracks  an'  ridges  for  my  hands 
an'  feet.  All  to  once,  just  above  I  heard  a 
low  growl.  Lookin'  up  I  saw  a  big  lion, 
bigger 'n  any  we've  chased,  an'  he  was  pokin' 
his  head  out  of  a  hole,  an'  shore  tellin'  me  to 
come  no  farther.  I  couldn't  let  go  with  either 
hand  to  reach  my  gun,  because  I'd  have  fallen ; 
so  I  yelled  at  him  with  all  my  might.  He  spit 
at  me  an'  then  walked  out  of  the  hole,  over 
the  bench,  as  proud  as  a  lord,  an'  jumped 
down  where  I  couldn't  see  him  no  more.  1 
climbed  out  all  right,  but  he'd  gone.  An' 
I  tell  you  for  a  minute  he  shore  made  me 
sweat." 

That  night  Hiram  whispered  to  Ken  and 
Jim  and  me  to  stay  up  till  Hal  and  Navvy  had 
gone  to  bed.  We  did  not  need  to  wait  long, 
and  soon  Navvy's  snores  and  Hal's  deep 
breathing  assured  us  we  might  safely  talk  of 
our  plan. 

"Youngster,  you  slip  up  an'  steal  Hal's 
154 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

gun,"  whispered  Hiram.  "I  wouldn't  be 
easy  in  mind  monkeyin'  with  thet  kid  if  he  hed 
a  gun  handy." 

Ken  got  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  and 
crawled  noiselessly  toward  the  shack.  He 
did  not  return  for  some  time.  At  last  he 
appeared  carrying  Hal's  weapons,  and  we  all 
breathed  easier. 

"Thet  kid  shore  has  us  all  buffaloed," 
remarked  Jim. 

Then  we  got  our  heads  together.  It  was  not 
strange  for  Ken  to  be  eager  to  pay  Hal  back 
in  his  own  coin,  and  perhaps  I  was  still  young 
enough  to  feel  the  fun  of  a  good,  well-deserved 
trick.  But  it  did  seem  strange  for  Hiram  Bent 
and  Jim  Williams  to  outdo  us  in  eagerness. 
Hiram  was  excited  and  Jim  was  bursting  with 
suppressed  glee. 

"See  hyar,  youngster,  I've  planned  it  all," 
said  Hiram.  "Now  you  take  this  lasso — 
thar's  a  noose  on  each  end — an'  jest  wrap  it 
once  round  thet  little  saplin'  thar,  an'  then  slip 
a  noose  over  Hal's  foot  an'  one  over  Navvy's." 

"You've  planned,  and  I  must  execute," 
protested  Ken.  "By  George!  Hiram,  can't 
Dick  help  me?" 

155 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

"111  take  one  end  of  the  lasso,"  I  replied. 
"That  will  make  it  easier  for  us  to  wrap  the 
middle  of  the  lasso  round  the  sapling.  We'll 
both  walk  round  it  once.  Come  on." 

The  sapling  in  question  was  about  fifteen 
feet  from  Hal's  shack,  and  quite  in  the  open. 
Ken  and  I  got  the  lasso  round  it,  and  then 
dropping  on  all  fours  we  crawled  stealthily 
toward  the  shack. 

"You  take  the  Indian,"  I  suggested,  in  a 
whisper. 

"Good!"  whispered  Ken.  "I'd  rather  try 
to  rope  Geronimo  than  my  kid  brother." 

Like  snails  we  crept  on,  as  tense  and  silent 
as  if  there  were  real  danger.  We  reached  the 
shack  and  lay  low  a  moment.  Hal  had 
wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket,  but  the 
Navajo  lay  partially  uncovered.  It  turned 
out  that  I  had  gotten  the  worse  of  the  choice, 
for  Ken  soon  slipped  his  noose  over  Navvy's 
uncovered  foot.  And  I  had  carefully  to 
remove  the  blanket  from  Hal  before  I  could  get 
the  lasso  over  his  foot.  Hal  kicked,  but  he 
did  not  awaken.  I  returned  to  the  other 
conspirators  to  find  Ken  already  there. 

"  What  next  ? "  I  demanded. 
156 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

"  Wai,  it's  my  turn  now,"  whispered  Hiram, 
"  an'  if  you  fellars  don't  see  some  fun  then  I'm 
an  old  fool." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Ken. 

"Youngster,  I  never  seen  the  sleepin'  Injun 
thet  I  couldn't  scare  out  of  his  skin,  an'  you 
jest  listen  an'  watch." 

Hiram  got  down  flat  on  the  ground  and 
began  to  squirm  like  a  snake,  with  a  perfectly 
noiseless  motion.  He  went  out  of  sight 
toward  the  shack. 

We  waited,  holding  fast  to  each  other, 
straining  eyes,  and  listening  with  all  our 
might.  The  silence  was  unusual,  there  being 
only  a  faint  moan  of  wind  in  the  pines. 

Suddenly  a  hideous  ear-splitting  sound  rose 
on  the  night  air.  It  was  neither  yell,  nor  roar, 
nor  bawl.  Like  a  prolonged  superhuman 
shriek  it  pierced  us,  transfixed  us  to  the  spot. 
It  bore  some  faint  resemblance  to  a  terribln 
loud,  coarse  whistle. 

The  shack  flew  up  and  tumbled  to  pieces, 
out  of  which  bounded  the  Navajo.  His 
screech  of  terror  rose  above  Hiram's  unearthly 
cry.  Navvy  leaped,  and  then,  like  a  nine-pin, 
down  he  went.  Hal  jumped  up,  and,  yelling, 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

ran  the  other  way,  and  down  he  went.  Both 
sprang  up  and  leaped  away  again,  only  to  go 
tumbling  down.  Quick  as  thought  Navvy 
rose  and  started  to  run;  Hal,  doing  the  same, 
ran  into  the  Indian's  arms.  Then  Hiram 
stopped  his  unearthly  noise.  The  frightened 
dogs  burst  into  an  uproar.  Everything  hap- 
pened so  quickly  that  I  could  scarcely  keep 
track  of  it.  Down  went  Navvy  and  Hal  all  in 
a  heap. 

Suddenly  Hiram  roared  out :  "  Hyar,  you 
tarnal  redskin !  stop  thet ! ' ' 

We  rushed  up  to  find  Navvy  sitting  astride 
Hal  and  pommeling  him  at  a  great  rate.  It 
was  only  the  work  of  a  moment  to  rescue  poor 
Hal,  after  which  he  roared  as  loudly  as  Hiram, 
but  our  roaring  was  laughter. 

We  had  not  thought  that  Navvy  would  sus- 
pect Hal,  and  that  had  made  our  little  trick 
thrice  successful. 

"  How — much — does — it  take — to  scare  you 
—Hal?  "choked  Ken. 

Hiram  added  his  say:  "Hal — I  was  jest — 
wonderin' — what  your  pa — would  hev  thought 
— if  he  hed  seen  you." 

We  did  not  see  any  more  of  Hal  till  next 
158 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

day.  As  that  was  to  be  a  day  of  rest,  partio 
ularly  for  the  hounds,  we  lounged  in  the 
shade.  Hiram,  however,  who  was  seldom 
idle,  spent  his  time  in  making  buckskin 
moccasins  for  the  hounds.  More  or  less  we 
all  bantered  Hal  with  our  several  opinions  of 
what  it  took  to  scare  him.  Like  a  waiting 
volcano  with  a  cold  exterior,  Hal  endured  our 
sallies  in  silence.  Indeed  he  did  not  appear 
to  hold  resentment — Hal  was  not  that  sort  of  a 
boy — but  all  the  same  his  brain  was  busy. 
And  we  all  shivered  in  our  boots.  Whatever 
Hal's  feelings  were  toward  us  he  did  not  reveal, 
but  he  watched  the  Indian  steadily  and 
thoughtfully.  By  that  we  knew  Hal  had  de- 
signs on  Navvy,  and  we  awaited  developments 
with  some  relief  and  much  interest. 

Toward  sunset  we  were  interrupted  by 
yells  from  the  Navajo,  off  in  the  woods.  The 
brushing  of  branches  and  pounding  of  hoofs 
preceded  his  appearance.  In  some  remark- 
able manner  he  had  got  a  bridle  on  Marc,  and 
from  the  way  the  big  stallion  hurled  his  huge 
bulk  over  logs  and  through  thickets,  it  ap- 
peared evident  he  meant  to  usurp  Jim's 
ambition  and  kill  the  Navajo.  Hearing  Hiram 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

yell,  the  Indian  turned  Marc  toward  camp 
The  horse  slowed  down  when  he  neared  the 
glade  and  tried  to  buck.  But  Navvy  kept 
his  head  up.  With  that  Marc  seemed  to  give 
way  to  ungovernable  rage  and  plunged  right 
through  camp;  he  knocked  over  the  dog- 
shelter,  and  thundered  down  the  ridge. 

Now,  the  Navajo,  with  a  bridle  in  his  hands, 
was  thoroughly  at  home;  he  was  getting  his 
revenge  on  Marc,  and  he  would  have  kept  his 
seat  on  a  wild  mustang.  But  Marc  swerved 
suddenly  under  a  low  branch  of  pine,  sweeping 
the  Indian  off. 

When  Navvy  did  not  rise  we  began  to  fear 
he  had  been  seriously  hurt,  perhaps  killed, 
and  we  ran  to  where  he  lay. 

Face  downward,  hands  outstretched,  with 
no  movement  of  body  or  muscle,  he  certainly 
appeared  dead. 

"Badly  hurt,"  said  Hiram,  "probably  back 
broken.  I've  seen  it  afore  from  jest  sich 
accidents." 

"Oh  no!"  I  cried.  And  I  felt  so  deeply  I 
could  not  speak.  Jim,  who  always  wanted 
Navvy  to  be  a  dead  Indian,  looked  profoundly 
sorry, 

160 


NAVVY'S    WATERLOO 

"He's  a  dead  Injun,  all  right,"  replied 
Hiram. 

We  rose  from  our  stooping  postures  and 
stood  around,  uncertain  and  deeply  grieved, 
till  a  mournful  groan  from  Navvy  afforded  us 
much  relief. 

1  "Diet's  your  dead  Indian!"  exclaimed  Jim. 

Hiram  stooped  and  felt  the  Indian's  back, 
and  got  in  reward  another  mournful  groan. 

"  It's  his  back,"  said  Hiram,  and  true  to  his 
ruling  passion,  forever  to  minister  to  the  needs 
of  horses  and  men  and  things,  he  began  to  rub 
the  Indian  and  called  for  the  liniment. 

Hal  went  to  fetch  it,  while  I,  who  still  be- 
lieved Navvy  to  be  dangerously  hurt,  knelt 
by  him,  and  pulled  up  his  shirt,  exposing  the 
hollow  of  his  brown  back. 

"  Here  you  are,"  said  Hal,  returning  on  the 
run  with  a  bottle. 

"  Pour  some  on,"  replied  Hiram.  Hal  re- 
moved the  cork  and  soused  the  liniment  all 
over  the  Indian's  back. 

"Don't  waste  it,"  remonstrated  Hiram, 
starting  to  rub  Navvy. 

Then  occurred  a  most  extraordinary  thing. 
A  convulsion  seemed  to  quiver  through  the 

161 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Indian's  body;  he  rose  at  a  single  leap,  and 
uttering  a  wild,  piercing  yell,  broke  into  a 
run.  I  never  saw  an  Indian  or  anybody  else 
run  so  fleetly.  Yell  after  yell  pealed  back 
at  us. 

Absolutely  dumfounded,  we  all  gazed  at 
each  other. 

" Thet's  your  dead  Indian!"  ejaculated  Jim. 

" Dog-gone  me!"  exclaimed  Hiram. 

"  Look  here,"  I  cried,  picking  up  the  bottle. 
"  See!  Don't  you  smell  it? " 

Jim  fell  face  downward  and  began  to  shake. 

"What?"  shouted  Hiram.  "Turpentine! 
You  idiots!  Turpentine!  Hal  brought  the 
wrong  bottle!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   CANON   AND   ITS   DISCOVERERS 

HAL,  however,  was  not  always  making 
trouble.  Like  Ken,  he  had  a  thoughtful 
turn  of  mind,  and  when  in  this  mv.K>d  he  was 
not  slow  to  seek  information. 

"What  made  this  Canon?"  he  asked. 

And  I  undertook  to  tell  him. 

"Well,  Hal,  I  don't  see  how  any  one  could 
look  at  this  Canon  without  wondering  how  it 
was  made,"  I  said.  "It  seems  to  me  the 
forces  of  nature  were  no  more  wonderful  here 
than  elsewhere.  But  here  you  can  see  so  much 
of  what's  been  done,  and  that  makes  you 
curious. 

"  Ages  ago,  you  know,  the  whole  face  of  the 
earth  was  covered  by  water.  And  as  the  crust 
began  to  cool,  and  shrink,  and  crumple  up, 
the  first  land  began  to  rise  above  the  water. 
In  this  part  of  the  country  the  Rockies  were 
163 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

the  first  points  of  land  to  appear.  As  the 
earth's  crust  kept  on  crumpling  these  moun- 
tains kept  rising  above  the  water.  As  they 
rose  they  began  to  weather,  and  dust,  sand, 
silt,  and  rock  washed  back  into  the  ocean, 
and  formed  layers  on  the  bottom.  This 
went  on  for  thousands  and  thousands  of 
years. 

"All  this  time  the  earth  was  lifting  itself 
out  of  the  sea,  and  finally  a  continent  was 
formed.  But  it  wasn't  much  like  the  conti- 
nent of  to-day.  Florida  and  the  Southern 
States  were  still  under  water.  There  was  a 
great  inland  sea  north  of  this  plateau  region, 
and  as  the  uplift  continued  this  inland  sea 
began  to  flow  out,  cutting  a  river  into  the 
plateau.  This  river  was  the  Colorado. 

"Probably  it  rained  much  harder  and 
longer  in  those  early  days,  and  the  river,  with 
its  tributaries,  had  greater  power,  and  there 
was  a  greater  erosion.  The  Colorado  cut  its 
way  through  to  the  Gulf  of  California.  As 
time  went  on,  and  the  uplift  of  land  continued, 
the  river  cut  deeper  and  deeper,  and  erosion 
by  rain  and  wind  and  frost  widened  the  chan- 
nel into  a  canon.  The  different  layers  of 
164 


THE    CANON 

rock  raised  up  were  of  different  degrees  of 
hardness  and  softness. 

"Some  readily  wore  away;  others  were 
durable.  These  layers  were  the  deposit  of 
silt  into  the  ocean  bed,  where  they  had  been 
burned  or  cemented  into  rock  strata.  There 
have  been  fifteen  thousand  feet — three  miles — 
of  strata  washed  off  from  the  earth  here,  where 
we  sit  now. 

"Then  the  uplift  increased,  or  there  was  a 
second  and  quicker  uplift  of  the  plateau.  It 
was  greater  here,  where  we  are,  than  southward. 
That's  why  the  north  rim  is  so  much  higher. 
The  whole  plateau  has  a  tilt  to  the  north. 
This  second  uplift  gave  the  river  a  greater 
impetus  toward  the  sea,  and  that,  of  course, 
gave  it  greater  cutting  power.  The  narrow 
inner  canon  was  thus  formed.  This  drained 
the  inland  sea.  The  river  is  small  now  to 
what  it  was  then.  But  the  same  washing, 
grinding  of  sand  on  rock  is  going  on  down 
there.  And  up  above  the  same  eroding  and 
weathering  of  rims." 

"Gee  whiz!"  exclaimed  Hal.  "It's  easy 
to  understand  the  way  you  put  it.  Then 
these  different-colored  cliffs,  the  yellow,  and 
165 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

red,  and  white — they're  made  out  of  the  sand 
and  silt  once  washed  into  the  sea,  and  petrified 
into  the  layers — the  strata,  you  called  it — and 
then  uplifted,  to  be  washed  away  again.  It 
takes  my  breath ! ' ' 

"Yes,  and  from  these  layers  we  can  deter- 
mine when  life  first  appeared  in  the  sea.  For 
we  find  shells  and  bones  of  a  low  order  of 
life  imbedded  in  this  rock." 

"Who  discovered  the  Canon,  anyhow?" 
asked  Hal.  "  If  the  fellow  rode  out  of  the 
cedars  right  upon  the  rim,  without  being 
prepared,  I'll  bet  he  thought  he'd  come  to 
the  jumping-off  place." 

"Ken  can  tell  you  that  better  than  I,"  I 
replied. 

"It's  flvorth  knowing,  Hal,"  said  Ken. 
"  Look  here,  who  were  the  first  white  people 
in  America,  anyway?" 

"The  Jamestown,  Virginia,  colony  in  1607," 
Hal  answered,  triumphantly,"  and  the  Ply- 
mouth colony  in  1620." 

Ken  laughed. 

"  Well,"  said  Hal,  rather  sulkily,  "  of  course, 
there  are  all  the  stories  of  Norsemen  dropping 
in  any  old  time  all  the  way  from  Newfoundland 
166 


THE    CANON 

to  Long  Island  Sound,  but  they  certainly 
didn't  amount  to  much  as  settlers." 

"No,  we  won't  count  the  Norsethen,"  said 
Ken.  "But,  Hal,  just  think  of  this.  The 
Grand  Canon,  away  out  here  in  this  wilderness, 
was  discovered  in  1540,  sixty-seven  years 
before  the  Jamestown  colony  landed,  and 
eighty  years  before  the  Mayflower  dropped 
anchor  at  Plymouth." 

Hal  whistled. 

"That  makes  Plymouth  Rock  look  young," 
he  said.  "  Who  found  the  Canon?" 

"  It  was  discovered  by  a  Spaniard.  His 
name  was  Don  Lopez  de  Cardenas.  He  was  a 
lieutenant  of  the  great  Spanish  explorer 
Coronado,  who  sent  him  out  from  his  camp 
near  the  so-called  Seven  Cities  of  Cibola, 
usually  identified  as  the  Pueblos  of  Zufii.  Car- 
denas with  a  handful  of  men  traveled  into 
northern  Arizona,  and  finally  reached  the 
gorge  now  known  as  the  Grand  Canon.  He 
must  have  traversed  the  southerly  edge  of 
the  Colorado  plateau  and  passed  through  the 
Coconina  forests." 

"I  don't  understand,"  said  Hal.  "These 
were  Spanish  warriors  in  helmets  and  breast- 
12  167 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

plates  like  the  men  with  Cortez  in  Mexico  and 
Pizarro  in  South  America.  What  brought 
them  to  such  an  out-of-the-way  place  as  this  ? ' ' 

"It's  a  romance,"  replied  Ken,  earnestly; 
"but  it's  a  true  one,  and  it  goes  back  to  the 
search  for  a  way  to  the  treasures  of  the  Far 
East,  which  led  to  Columbus'  discovery  of  Cat 
or  San  Salvador  Island  in  the  West  Indies,  and 
then  to  the  Spanish  occupancy  of  Cuba,  and 
to  the  gold-hunts  of  De  Soto  in  our  South  and 
Pizarro  in  South  America. " 

"  I  don't  see  the  connection,"  grumbled  Hal. 

"  You  will  in  a  minute.  You  see  when  the 
Spaniards  were  settled  in  Cuba  in  the  early 
sixteenth  century  they  kept  on  looking  for 
two  things — gold  and  a  water  route  to  Cathay 
or  China  and  the  Spice  Islands  of  the  East. 
Now,  in  1528  a  Spanish  expedition  under 
Narvaez  came  to  grief  in  Florida.  A  few 
survivors  made  their  way  across  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  and  finally  four  who  were  left  were 
captured  by  the  Indians  a  little  west  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Mississippi.  For  years  they 
were  captives  among  the  Indians  of  eastern 
Texas  and  western  Louisiana.  They  made 
many  long  journeys,  and  their  leader,  Alvar 

168 


THE    CANON 

Nunez  Cabeza  de  Vaca,  gained  some  favors 
by  acting  as  medicine  man.  But  at  last  they 
escaped.  They  traveled  across  Texas  and 
northern  Mexico,  and  in  1536  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  northern  outpost  of  Spain  in 
Mexico,  at  Culiacan,  in  Sinaloa." 

"  That  must  have  been  the  first  time  a  white 
man  crossed  this  continent,"  broke  in  Hal. 

"Yes,  Alvar  Nunez  Cabeza  de  Vaca  was 
the  first  to  cross  the  continent.  He  was  the 
first  white  man  to  see  the  buffalo,  and  another 
thing  he  did  was  to  bring  back  stories  of 
wonderful  towns  filled  with  riches  of  which  the 
Indians  had  told  him.  Stories  like  this  had 
reached  the  Spaniards  before.  Within  three 
years  a  priest,  Fray  Marcos  de  Niza,  taking 
one  of  Alvar  Nunez  Cabeza  de  Vaca's  followers, 
started  north  to  find  the  Seven  Cities  of 
Cibola.  He  probably  did  find  the  Pueblos 
of  Zufii,  but  he  brought  back  exaggerated 
stories.  Such  stories,  especially  one  of  Qui- 
vira,  an  Indian  treasure  city,  led  Mendoza,  the 
Viceroy  of  Mexico,  to  organize  a  search  expedi- 
tion which  was  commanded  by  Coronado,  the 
Governor  of  New  Galicia.  He  started  north 
in  1540  with  over  three  hundred  soldiers  and 
169 


THE    YOUNG     LION    HUNTER 

over  a  thousand  Indian  allies  and  Indian  and 
negro  servants.  He  captured  Zuni,  although 
he  didn't  find  any  gold.  He  wintered  there 
and  sent  out  exploring  parties,  and  one  of 
them,  to  come  back  to  my  starting-point, 
found  the  Grand  Canon." 

"  Did  the  Spaniards  get  down  into  the  Grand 
Canon?  "asked  Hal. 

"They  tried  to.  Some  of  the  men  with 
Cardenas  climbed  down  a  long  way  with 
Indian  guides.  They  said  that  some  rocks  on 
the  sides  of  the  cliffs  which  seemed  the  size  of  a 
man  from  above  proved  to  be  larger  than  the 
great  tower  at  Seville  when  they  reached  them. 
But  they  could  not  go  on  to  the  bottom. 
They  estimated  the  width  of  the  Canon  at  the 
top  at  three  or  four  leagues." 

"  But, "  said  Hal,  "  didn't  the  Spaniards  ever 
reach  the  river  itself  ? ' ' 

"I  should  say  they  did,"  replied  Ken. 
"Listen.  In  1539  some  ships  commanded  by 
Don  Francisco  de  Ulloa  evidently  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  river.  When  Coronado  started 
the  next  year,  the  Viceroy  sent  out  another 
fleet  commanded  by  Don  Fernando  de  Alarcon. 
This  fleet  was  to  go  north  along  the  Mexican 
170 


THE    CANON 

coast,  and  as  they  knew  nothing  of  the  geog- 
raphy of  the  region  they  thought  Coronado 
and  Alarcon  would  not  be  far  apart  and 
could  keep  in  touch.  Alarcon  not  only 
reached  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado,  but  he 
ascended  the  river  in  boats  for  eighty-five 
leagues  and  called  it  the  Rio  de  Buena  Guia. 
Also  Melchior  Diaz,  who  led  an  exploring  party 
sent  out  by  Coronado,  went  across  Arizona 
to  the  Gulf  of  California,  crossing  the  Colorado 
River." 

"Where  did  you  get  all  this?"  asked  Dick, 
abruptly,  and  then,  as  Ken  held  up  a  small 
book,  "Oh!  you've  been  reading  up.  But 
my  histories  never  told  me  this.  What  is 
that?" 

"That,"  said  Ken,  "is  Castaneda's  'Rela- 
tions,' or  Journal,  and  Castaneda  was  an 
educated  private  soldier  with  Coronado  who 
was  the  historian  of  the  journey,  in  order  that 
there  might  be  a  full  report  for  the  Viceroy  of 
Mexico  and  the  Emperor-King  of  Spain.  It 
has  been  translated  and  explained  by  Mr.  G. 
P.  Winship,  and  other  scholars,  like  Bandelier, 
have  helped  to  make  the  Spanish  explorations 
known.  Cabeza  de  Vaca  wrote  a  full  account 
171 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

of  his  wanderings,  like  many  other  adven* 
turous  Spaniards . ' ' 

"Oh!  What  became  of  Coronado  finally?" 
asked  Hal. 

"  His  expedition  journeyed  from  Zuni  east- 
ward, entered  Kansas,  and  probably  reached 
the  northeasterly  part  of  the  State." 

"How  about  the  golden  Quivira?"  asked 
Hal. 

"The  only  Quivira  they  found  was  a 
wretched  little  village,  probably  of  the  Wichita 
Indians,  in  Kansas.  But  here  is  a  dramatic 
thing.  While  Coronado  was  up  there  in 
Kansas  with  his  fine  expedition,  poor  De  Soto, 
who  had  fought  his  way  from  Florida  to  the 
Mississippi,  had  crossed  the  river,  and  was 
distant  only  a  journey  of  a  few  days  for  an 
Indian  runner — in  fact,  it  is  related  that 
Coronado  heard  of  some  white  men  there  in 
the  heart  of  this  strange  country  and  sent  a 
messenger  to  find  them,  who  failed.  Now 
here's  the  thing  that  strikes  me.  At  that 
early  day,  in  the  summer  of  1541,  two  Spanish 
expeditions,  one  starting  from  Florida,  and 
one  from  Mexico,  practically  traversed  the 
breadth  of  our  continent,  and  nearly  met  in 
172 


THE    CANON 

eastern  Kansas.  We  always  hear  of  the 
Jamestown  colony  and  the  Pilgrims;  but 
think  of  the  Spaniards  crossing  the  continent 
twice  in  the  first  half  of  the  century  before 
Jamestown." 

"It's  a  great  story,"  said  Hal.  "I  hope 
Coronado  got  some  reward." 

"Not  much,"  Ken  snapped  out.  "First, 
he  fell  from  his  horse  and  was  badly  hurt. 
Secondly,  he  had  found  no  gold.  That  was 
the  important  thing.  So  he  reached  the  City 
of  Mexico  in  the  spring  of  1542,  '  very  sad  and 
very  weary,  completely  worn  out  and  shame- 
faced.'" 

"Didn't  he  get  any  credit  for  his  discov- 
eries?" 

"  Not  a  particle.  Yet  he  had  made  known 
to  Europeans  a  vast  territory  extending  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  River  to  the  Grand 
Canon,  and  stretching  east  nearly  to  the  Mis- 
sissippi and  north  to  Nebraska." 

"  What  became  of  him  ? ' ' 

"  He  was  so  coldly  received  by  the  Vice- 
roy," answered  Ken,  "that  he  resigned  as 
Governor  of  New  Galicia  and  retired  to  his 
estate  in  Spain,  where  he  died." 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"It's  a  wonderful  story,"  said  Hal. 

"There's  nothing  better  in  the  exploration 
of  this  country, ' '  Ken  agreed.  "  But,  Hal,  I've 
talked  myself  out  and  it's  time  to  do  something 
else." 


CHAPTER  XIV 
HIRAM  BENT'S  STORY 

HOW  old  Hiram  Bent  was  no  one  knew,  and 
he  probably  did  not  know  himself.  But 
his  life  of  Western  adventure  had  included 
Indian-fighting  and  buffalo-hunting  in  the 
early  days,  and  once  in  a  while  he  could  be 
persuaded  to  talk  of  wild  life  on  the  plains. 
Something  that  he  said  made  us  demand  a 
story,  and  at  last  he  began : 

"  Youngsters,  this  narrer  escape  I  had  hap- 
pened 'way  down  in  the  northwest  corner  of 
Texas.  Jim  must  know  jest  about  whar  it 
was. 

"  I  was  tryin'  to  overhaul  a  shifty  herd  of 
buffalo,  an'  had  rid  mebbe  forty  or  fifty  mile 
thet  day.  As  I  was  climbin'  a  slope  I  saw 
columns  of  dust  risin'  beyond  the  ridge,  an' 
they  told  me  the  direction  the  herd  was  takin'. 
When  I  got  on  top  I  made  out  far  ahead  a  lone 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

sentinel  of  the  herd  standin'  out  sharp  an 
black  against  the  sky  line. 

"When  the  wary  old  buffalo  disappeared  I 
hed  cause  to  grumble.  For  there  wasn't  much 
chance  of  me  overhaulin'  the  herd.  Still 
I  kept  spurrin'  my  hoss.  He  plunged  down 
the  ridge  with  a  weakenin'  stride,  an'  I  knew 
he  was  most  done.  But  he  was  game  an'  kept 
on.  Presently  I  saw  the  flyin'  buffalo,  a 
black  movin'  mass  half  hid  by  clouds  of 
whitish  dust.  They  were  a  mile  or  more  ahead 
an'  I  thought  if  I  could  git  out  of  the  rough 
ground  I  might  head  them.  Jest  below  me 
were  piles  of  yellow  rock  an'  clumps  of  dwarf 
trees,  an'  green  thet  I  reckoned  was  cotton- 
woods.  My  hoss  ran  down  into  a  low  hollow, 
an'  afore  I  knowed  what  was  up  all  about  me 
was  movin'  objects,  red  an'  brown  an'  black. 
I  pulled  up  my  snortin'  hoss  right  in  the 
midst  of  a  band  of  Comanches. 

"  One  glance  showed  me  half -naked  redskins 
slippin'  from  tree  to  tree,  springin'  up  all 
around  with  half -leveled  rifles.  I  felt  the 
blood  rush  to  my  heart  an'  leave  my  body  all 
cold  an'  heavy.  There  wasn't  much  chance 
them  days  of  escapin'  from  Comanches,  But 
176 


HIRAM    BENT'S    STORY 

my  mind  worked  fast.  I  hed  one  chance, 
mebbe  half  a  chance,  but  it  was  so  hopeless 
thet  even  as  I  thought  of  it  I  hed  a  gloomy 
feelin'  clamp  down  on  me.  I  leaped  off  my 
hoss,  threw  the  bridle  over  my  arm,  an'  with 
bearin'  as  natural  as  if  my  comin'  was  in- 
tended I  went  toward  the  Injuns. 

"The  half -leveled  rifles  dropped,  an*  the 
strung  bows  slowly  straightened,  an'  deep 
grunts  told  of  the  surprise  of  the  Comanches. 

" '  Me  talk  big  chief,'  I  said,  wavin'  my  hand 
as  if  I  was  not  one  to  talk  to  braves. 

"One  redskin  pointed  with  a  long  arm. 
Then  the  line  opened  an'  let  me  through  with 
my  hoss.  It  was  a  large  camp  of  hunt  in' 
Comanches.  Buffalo  meat  and  robes  were 
dry  in'  in  the  sun.  Swarms  of  buzzin'  flies 
showed  the  fresh  kill.  Covered  fires  gave  vent 
to  thin  wisps  of  smoke;  worn  rifles  gleamed  in 
the  sun,  an'  bows  smooth  an'  oily  from  use 
littered  the  grass.  But  there  were  no  wig- 
wams or  squaws. 

"  I  went  forward  watched  by  many  cunnin* 

eyes,  an'  made  straight  for  a  cotton  wood-tree, 

whar  a  long  trailin'  head-dress  of  black-barred 

eagle  feathers  hung  from  a  branch,     The  chief 

177 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

was  there  rest  in ' .  I  was  expect  in '  an '  dreadin ' 
to  see  a  short  square  Injun,  an  old  chief  I  knew 
an'  who  had  reason  to  know  me.  But  instead 
I  saw  a  splendid  young  redskin,  tall  an' 
muscular,  an'  of  sullen  look. 

"'How, 'I  said. 

"'How, 'he  replied. 

"  Then  we  locked  eyes.  I  was  cold  an'  quiet, 
hidin'  my  fear  an'  hope.  An'  the  Injun 
showed  in  his  piercin'  glance  suspicion  thet 
would  hev  been  astonishment  in  any  one  save 
a  redskin.  Thet  Injun  hed  a  pair  of  eyes  that 
showed  the  very  soul  of  lifelong  hatred. 

"'Ugh!'  he  exclaimed.  'White  man — buf- 
falo-killer— lose  trail.  Me  know  white  man ! ' 

"  I  would  have  liked  to  deny  my  reputation. 
But  thet  would  hev  been  the  worst  thing  for 
me. 

" '  No  lose  trail — come  swap  pony,'  I  said. 

*' '  Heap  lie! '  he  replied,  in  scorn. 

*"Big  chief  brave — now,'  I  taunted,  an' 
swept  my  arm  round  the  camp.  I  knew  the 
Injun  nature.  The  chief  lifted  his  head  with 
a  motion  that  said '  No. '  The  Comanche  cared 
for  nothin*  but  courage  an'  endurance.  He 
was  faced  in  his  home  by  a  defenseless  hunter. 
178 


HIRAM    BENT'S    STORY 

No  doubt  he  felt  the  call  of  his  blood.  It  was 
his  law  that  he  couldn't  tomahawk  me  or 
order  me  shot  an'  scalped  till  he  hed  made  me 
show  fear.  An'  thar  was  my  hope.  The 
Comanche  hed  to  see  fear  in  me,  or  sense  it, 
before  he  could  kill  me. 

"  I  looked  as  if  I  didn't  know  what  fear  was. 
I  jest  made  myself  stone.  In  this  was  all  the 
little  hope  I  hed  of  life.  The  redskin  hed  to 
be  made  believe  I  had  rid  into  his  camp, 
feelin'  no  fear  of  death,  recognizin'  no  cause 
for  it,  an'  holdin'  myself  safe.  Now  the 
redskin  believed  in  the  supernatural,  in  the 
unseen  force  of  nature  leaguin'  itself  with  the 
brave,  an'  givin'  man  a  god-like  spirit.  Years 
of  bloody  warfare  had  driven  the  redskin 
back  from  the  frontiers,  made  him  a  savage 
whar  once  no  doubt  he  was  noble,  but  fire  an' 
strife  an'  blood  couldn't  stamp  out  thet  belief. 

"'Swap  pony,'  I  said  again,  an*  showed 
silver  I  would  include  in  the  trade. 

" ' How  much?'  he  asked. 

'"Heap  much,'  I  answered. 

"He  held  out  a  brown  lean  hand  for  the 
silver,  an'  threw  it  straight  back  in  my  face. 
The  hard  silver  cut  an'  bruised  me;  blood 
179 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

flowed  from  cuts,  but  I  didn't  move  a  muscle, 
an'  kept  a  cool  gaze  level  with  the  dark  hot 
eyes  of  the  redskin. 

"Thet  flingin'  of  the  silver  was  a  young 
chief's  undignified  passion  toward  a  prisoner 
who  hed  become  prisoner  without  effort  or 
risk  for  any  warrior.  No  honor  was  thar  in 
me,  no  glory  in  insult  to  me.  I  caught  my 
advantage,  an*  became  cooler  an'  stonier  than 
ever,  an'  put  a  little  contempt  in  my  looks. 

"  A  sudden  yell  from  him  brought  his  band 
runnin'  an'  leapin'.  They  grunted  an'  let 
out  deep  savage  cries.  A  circle  formed  round 
us,  a  circle  of  bronzed,  scarred  warriors,  an'  I 
felt  my  time  was  near.  They  all  knew  me, 
not  so  much  because  I  hed  fought  them,  but 
because  I  was  a  great  buffalo-killer,  an'  they 
hated  me  for  thet.  More  than  any  other  hun- 
ter I  made  meat  scarce  at  their  camp-fires. 
Their  meanin'  eyes  roved  from  chief  to  me, 
spelUn'  sentences  of  iron  an'  torture  an'  death. 

"  The  Comanche  took  from  one  of  his  braves 
a  long  black  bow  as  tall  as  himself,  an'  a  long 
feathered  an'  barbed  arrow.  He  leaned  to- 
ward me,  an'  his  look  was  so  keen  thet  I  felt 
T>  would  read  my  soul. 

i  So 


HIRAM    BENT'S    STORY 

" '  White  hunter  lie — no  want  swap  pony — 
hunt  buffalo — no  smell  Indian  smoke.' 

"  I  kept  silence  an'  never  let  my  gaze  flicker 
from  his.  Thet  was  all  I  could  do.  No  word, 
no  move  could  help  me  now.  I  summoned 
all  I  had  left  of  courage,  an'  tried  in  a  flash  to 
think  of  all  the  tight  places  I  hed  been  in 
before. 

" '  White  hunter  lie ! '  repeated  the  Comanche. 

''Then  with  slow  an'  deliberate  motion, 
never  lowerin'  his  burnin'  gaze,  he  fitted  the 
arrow  to  the  bow  an'  slowly  stretchin'  his 
arms  he  shot  the  arrow  at  my  foot. 

"  I  felt  it  graze  me  and  heard  the  light  thud 
as  it  entered  the  ground.  I  twitched  in- 
wardly an'  a  chill  crept  up  from  my  foot. 
But  I  made  no  outward  motion,  not  a  flick 
of  an  eyelash. 

"'White  hunter  lie!' 

"Thet  was  the  redskin's  stumblin '-block. 
He  couldn't  believe  that  any  white  hunter, 
much  less  me,  would  dare  to  come  before  him 
an'  all  his  braves,  an'  ask  to  swap  ponies. 
His  crafty  mind  told  him  it  couldn't  be  true. 
An'  every  beat  of  his  heart  throbbed  to  make 
me  show  it.  Select  in'  another  arrow  he  set  the 
181 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

feathered  notch  against  the  rawhide  cord — 
an'  twang!  .  .  .  The  sharp  point  bit  into  the 
leather  of  my  boot,  an'  buried  itself  half  length. 

"  Thet  Comanche's  gaze  became  the  hardest 
thing  I  ever  stood.  He  looked  clear  through 
me  for  signs  of  weakenin'.  I  saw  the  cold 
gleam  of  somethin'  hangin'  in  the  balance,  an' 
I  matched  white  courage  against  red  cunnin'. 
His  eyelids  shut  down  till  they  was  mere  slits 
over  black  blazes,  an'  the  veins  over  his 
temples  swelled  an'  beat.  Still,  he  had  com- 
mand of  himself,  an'  his  movements  were  as 
slow  as  the  torture  he  promised.  Again  he 
reached  for  an  arrow,  notched  it,  drew  it, 
paused  while  he  called  me  liar,  then  shot  it. 
A  knife-blade  couldn't  hev  been  wedged 
between  thet  arrow  an'  my  foot.  Then,  one 
after  another,  slow  an'  cruel,  he  shot  twelve 
arrows,  an'  penned  my  foot  in  a  little  circle 
of  feathered  shafts. 

"  With  thet  he  stopped  to  eye  me  for  a  little. 
Suddenly,  as  quick  as  he  hed  been  slow,  he 
shot  an  arrow  straight  through  my  boot, 
pinnin'  my  foot  to  the  ground. 

"  It  burned  like  a  red-hot  bar  of  iron. 

" '  Heap  lie! '  he  yelled,  in  a  voice  of  thunder. 
182 


HIRAM    BENT'S    STORY 

"  Again  he  leaned  forward  to  search  my  face 
for  a  shade  of  fear.  But  the  pain  upheld  me, 
an'  he  couldn't  scare  me.  Then  he  sprang 
erect  to  straighten  the  long  bow  in  line  with 
his  eye.  He  lifted  the  bow  so  that  the  mur- 
derous arrow-head  of  flint  pointed  at  my 
heart.  An'  his  eye  pierced  me.  Slow — slow 
as  a  fiend  he  began  to  bend  the  bow.  It  was 
thick  an'  heavy,  an'  hed  been  seasoned  an' 
strung  when  firearms  were  unknown  to  the 
redskins.  It  was  such  a  bow  as  only  a  great 
chief  could  own,  an'  one  thet  only  a  powerful 
arm  could  bend.  An'  this  chief  bent  it  slowly, 
more  an'  more  every  second,  till,  makin'  a 
perfect  curve,  it  quivered  an'  vibrated  with  the 
strain.  The  circle  of  Injuns  parted  from 
behind  me.  Once  loosened  thet  arrow  would 
never  have  stopped  in  my  body. 

"  I  knew  either  the  Injun  or  I  must  soon  give 
way  under  thet  ordeal.  But  it  wTas  my  life 
at  stake,  an'  he  began  to  weaken  first.  He 
began  to  tremble. 

" '  Swap  pony — lie! '  he  said. 

"  Somehow  I  hed  it  in  me  then  to  laugh. 

"The  Comanche  kept  his  look  of  pride  an' 
hatred.  Then,  raisin'  the  bow,  he  shot  the 

13  183 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

«trrow  in  a  wonderful  flight  out  of  sight  over 
the  ridge. 

"'Waugh!  Waugh!'  he  cried  in  disgust, 
an '  threw  down  the  bow.  He  couldn  't  frighten 
me,  therefore  he  wouldn't  kill  me. 

"'Brave  lie!'  A  kind  of  light  seemed  to 
clear  his  angry  face.  He  waved  his  long 
arm  toward  the  ridge  an 'k  the  east,  an'  then, 
turnin'  his  back  on  me,  went  among  the 
cotton  woods.  The  other  warriors  went  after 
him,  leavin'  my  way  open.  Thet  was  how 
even  the  Comanches  honored  courage. 

"  I  pulled  the  arrows  from  the  ground,  air 
last  the  one  thet  held  my  foot  like  a  red-hot 
spike.  Leadin'  my  hoss  I  limped  out  of  camp, 
an'  climbed  the  ridge.  When  I  got  out  of 
sight  I  took  off  my  boot  to  see  how  bad  I  was 
hurt.  Thet  thar  arrow  went  between  my 
toes,  jest  grazin'  them  an'  hardly  drawin' 
blood!  I  hed  been  so  scared  I  thought  my 
foot  was  shot  half  off.  .  .  .  But  all  the  same, 
thet  was  the  narrerest  escape  Hiram  Bent 
ever  had!'1 


CHAPTER  XV 

WILD   MUSTANGS 

ONE  morning  Navvy  came  in  with  the 
horses  and  reported  that  Wings  had 
broken  his  hobbles  and  gone  off  with  a  band 
of  wild  mustangs.  We  were  considerably 
put  out  about  it,  especially  as  Hal  took  the 
loss  much  to  heart.  Hiram  asked  the  Navajo 
whether  the  marauding  band  were  really 
mustangs  or  the  wild  horses  we  had  seen  on  the 
plateau.  And  Navvy  grinned  at  the  idea  of 
his  making  a  mistake  over  tracks. 

"Shore  thought  there  wasn't  no  mustangs 
up  here,"  commented  Jim. 

"Thar  wasn't  when  we  come  up,"  replied 
Hiram.  "They  jest  trotted  down  off  Buck- 
skin, climbed  up  hyar  an'  coaxed  Wings  off. 
Wild  mustangs  do  thet  a  lot,  an'  so  do  wild 
hosses  fer  thet  matter.  The  mountain's  full 
of  them.  We're  all  the  time  havin'  trouble 
with  our  hosses.  Now  a  hoss  thet's  well  broke 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

an'  tame  an*  even  used  to  haulin'  a  wagon  will 
git  crazy  the  minnit  he  smells  them  wild 
hosses.  An'  he'll  git  like  a  fox,  an'  he'll  hide 
in  the  cedars  when  you  track  him,  an'  dog- 
gone me  if  I  don't  believe  he'll  try  to  hide 
his  tracks." 

"Isn't  there  any  way  to  catch  Wings?" 
inquired  Ken. 

"I  reckon  we'll  never  git  a  bridle  on  him 
agin.  But  we  might  round  up  the  band,  an* 
catch  a  couple  of  mustangs.  What  do  you 
say  to  takin'  the  trail  of  them  mustangs? " 

Ken  and  Hal  yelled  their  desire  for  that,  and 
it  seemed  to  suit  Jim  pretty  well.  And  I  was 
like  him,  rather  pleased  to  undertake  what- 
ever pleased  the  brothers. 

"  What'll  I  ride?"  asked  Hal,  suddenly. 

"You  an'  Navvy  can  both  saddle  a  pack- 
hoss,"  replied  Hiram. 

"You  shore  ain't  goin'  to  take  the  Injun?" 
inquired  Jim. 

Wai,  I  reckon  so.  He's  a  Navajo,  ain't  he? 
An'  while  I  don't  like  to  hurt  your  Texas 
feelin's,  Jim,  thar  never  was  the  white  fellar  on 
earth  thet  could  hold  a  candle  to  a  Navajo 
when  it  comes  to  hosses." 
186 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

"Shore,  you're  right,"  declared  Jim,  with 
wonderful  good  nature. 

"An'  fellars,"  went  on  Hiram,  "stuff  some 
biscuits  in  your  pockets,  an'  throw  a  blanket 
on  your  hoss  before  saddlin ' .  Mebbe  we  won 't 
git  back  to-night.  Ken,  give  the  hounds  a 
good  feed,  an'  see  they're  tied  proper.  It'll  be 
a  rest  for  them,  an'  they  need  it." 

"Shall  I  take  my  rifle?"  asked  Ken. 

"  Wai,  you'd  better.  Thar's  no  tellin'  what 
we'll  strike  down  thar  in  the  brakes.  It's 
my  idee  them  mustangs  will  take  to  thet  wide 
plateau  down  below,  lookin'  fer  rich  browse. 
An'  thet's  jest  what  I'd  like  to  see.  Down 
thar  we'd  hev  a  chance  to  corner  them,  an' 
if  they  go  up  in  Buckskin  thar  won't  be  no 
use  trackin'  them." 

The  hounds  howled  dismally  as  we  rode 
away  from  camp,  and  the  last  time  I  turned  I 
saw  Prince  standing  up  the  length  of  his  chain 
and  wild  to  go  with  us.  In  a  hollow  perhaps  a 
half-mile  from  camp  Navvy  picked  up  the 
mustang  trail,  and  he  followed  it  through 
the  forest  without  getting  off  his  horse. 

"Boys,  can  you  see  tracks?"  I  asked  Ken 
and  Hal. 

187 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Ken  laughed  his  inability,  and  Hal  said: 
"Nix." 

"  Wai,  I  can't  see  any  myself,"  added  Hiram. 

It  was  remarkable  how  the  Navajo  trailed 
that  band  of  mustangs  over  the  soft  pine- 
needle  mats.  Try  as  I  might  I  could  not  see 
the  slightest  sign  of  a  track.  However,  when 
we  got  to  the  dusty  trail  at  the  head  of  the 
Saddle,  tracks  were  exceedingly  plain  to  us. 
We  rode  down  in  single  file  and  were  glad  to 
find  the  mustangs  had  turned  to  the  left 
toward  the  plateau  that  Hiram  had  called 
the  brakes.  We  passed  the  spring  and  Hiram's 
camp,  where  I  had  brought  the  boys  to  meet 
him,  and  then  went  on  past  the  gulch  where 
we  had  come  down. 

Before  us  spread  a  plateau  a  thousand  feet 
under  the  great  rim-wall  above.  It  widened 
and  widened  till  the  walls  of  rock  were  ten 
miles  apart,  and  the  end  of  this  wild  brake 
was  fully  thirty  miles  away.  It  was  an 
exceedingly  wild  and  rough  place.  The  horses 
had  to  go  slowly.  Scrub-oak  only  breast-high, 
and  as  thick  as  a  hedge,  and  as  spiked  as  a 
barbed-wire  fence,  made  progress  tedious 
and  painful. 

188 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

"Ken,  you'd  hardly  think  you  were  down 
in  the  Canon,  would  you?"  I  asked. 

"It's  hard  to  know  what  to  think  down  in 
this  awful  hole.  Where  are  we,  anyhow?" 

"There's  no  name  for  this  bench  that  I 
ever  heard.  It's  only  a  line  on  the  maps. 
We've  just  got  beyond  the  end  of  Powell's 
Plateau.  Buckskin,  of  course,  rises  on  our 
right.  To  the  left  the  real  Canon  deepens, 
and  straight  ahead — that  yellow  rim  with  the 
black  border — is  what  they  call  Siwatts.  It's 
a  spur  of  the  mountain." 

The  outlook  from  where  we  rode  was  level 
only  at  a  distance.  As  we  went  on  we  were 
continually  riding  up  and  down  ridges,  heading 
canons  and  gullies,  and  crossing  brooks.  We 
jumped  deer  and  foxes  and  coyotes  out  of 
every  brake.  The  scrub-oak  gave  way  to 
manzanita — a  red-barked,  green-leaved  species 
of  brush  that  was  almost  impenetrable.  And 
when  we  did  get  through  that  it  was  to  enter  a 
cedar  forest  where  the  ground  was  red  and 
bare  and  soft.  The  mustang  tracks  were 
now  plain  to  the  eye  and  quite  fresh.  Other 
tracks  were  of  great  variety.  Hiram  halted 
us  all  round  an  enormous  cougar  track.  The 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

marks  had  evidently  been  made  some  time 
before,  and  during  wet  weather.  The  cougar 
was  so  heavy  he  had  sunk  in  half  a  foot,  and 
his  track  was  bigger  around  than  that  of  any 
horse  we  had. 

"I  reckon  he's  the  captain,"  remarked 
Hiram. 

Ken  dismounted  once  to  pick  up  some 
arrow-heads.  One  was  a  perfect  point,  over 
six  inches  long,  of  dark  blue  flint,  and  sharp 
as  a  blade. 

"Thet's  pretty  old,  youngster,"  said  Hiram. 
"The  Navajos  used  to  come  here  for  their 
buckskin.  Thet's  why  the  mountain  was 
called  Buckskin." 

Hal  fired  at  a  coyote,  and  the  sleepy  pack- 
horse  he  rode  woke  and  nearly  left  the  boy 
hanging  on  the  spikes  of  a  cedar. 

"Hyar!"  called  Hiram.  "Don't  shoot  fer 
nothin',  Hal.  We  don't  want  to  scare  the 
mustangs." 

The  trail  led  across  the  cedar  forest,  out  into 
open  ground  again,  and  began  to  go  down, 
bench  by  bench,  step  by  step. 

It  was  hot  down  there.  But  presently  the 
sun  was  hidden  behind  storm-clouds  and  the 
190 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

air  grew  cooler.  I  heard  Jim  grumbling  that 
he  never  trailed  any  horses  that  did  not  stop 
to  graze.  And  Hiram  replied  that  this  par- 
ticular band  evidently  was  making  for  some 
especial  place.  Presently  we  came  out  upon 
the  edge  of  a  step  with  another  step  some 
hundreds  of  feet  below.  The  scene  was  so 
rugged  and  beautiful  and  wonderful  that  I 
had  to  look  many  times  before  I  made  any 
special  note  of  ground  near  at  hand.  But 
finally  I  saw  a  triangular  promontory,  perhaps 
a  mile  or  more  in  length  on  each  side,  and 
this  was  green  with  rich  grass  and  willow 
except  out  on  the  extreme  point,  where  it  was 
bare  and  white.  Deep  canons  bounded  this 
promontory  on  three  sides. 

"Git  back  out  of  sight,"  said  Hiram.  "If 
the  mustangs  are  down  thar  we  don't  want 
them  to  see  us." 

We  all  dismounted  and  led  our  horses  back 
into  a  clump  of  cedars. 

"  We'll  wait  hyar  an'  let  Navajo  go  look  thet 
place  over,"  added  Hiram. 

The  Indian  understood  without  being  told, 
and  he  stole  off  among  the  jumbles  of  rocks. 
Hal  was  the  other  one  who  did  not  rest, 
191 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

and  he  got  on  the  trail  of  some  animal  and 
went  off  among  the  cedars  toward  a  seamed 
and  cracked  cliff.  We  heard  him  throwing 
stones,  and  presently  he  yelled  for  Ken. 

"Youngster,  hurry  up  an'  sit  on  thet  thar 
kid,  or  he'll  spoil  our  mustang  hunt,"  said 
Hiram. 

Navvy  returned  and  announced  that  he 
had  seen  the  mustangs  browsing.  Then  Hiram 
went  off  with  him  to  get  sight  of  the  band 
and  the  lay  of  the  ground.  Meanwhile  the 
sky  grew  darker  and  darker,  and  there  was 
a  cool  touch  of  rain  or  snow  in  the  air. 
Hiram  was  gone  nearly  an  hour,  and  in  that 
time  Jim  and  I  saw  or  heard  nothing  of  the 
boys. 

"It's  goin'  to  snow,"  said  Hiram.  "An' 
we've  got  to  throw  a  camp  quick.  Say,  them 
mustangs  are  down  thar  on  thet  kite-shaped 
shelf,  an'  dog-gone  me  if  thar  ain't  only  one 
trail  leadin'  down.  An'  it's  narrer  an'  steep. 
We  can  drive  them  an'  ketch  all  we  can  handle. 
Whar  are  the  youngsters  ? ' ' 

"Shore  we  don't  know.  They're  chasin1 
somethin'  shore's  you're  born,"  said  Jim. 

"  Who  fetched  an  axe?"  asked  Hiram, 
192 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

I  was  never  caught  out  without  my  small 
hand-axe,  and  with  this  we  set  about  cutting 
cedar  branches  and  brush  to  make  shelters. 
A  big  black  cloud  swooped  down  on  us,  bringing 
a  flurry  of  snow.  At  that  juncture  Ken  and 
Hal  stalked  into  camp,  each  carrying  a  strug- 
gling, snapping  little  fox.  Both  boys  were 
bleeding  from  bites  or  cuts  which  they  minded 
not  at  all. 

"Been  ropin'  foxes,  eh?"  asked  Hiram. 
"Wai,  let  'em  go  an'  pitch  in  hyar  an'  help. 
We've  got  the  mustangs  rounded  up,  an'  with 
good  weather  we'll  hev  more  fun  an'  hard 
work  than  you  youngsters  hev  seen  yet." 

It  was  noticeable  that  Ken  released  his 
capture,  while  Hal  tied  his  to  a  cedar  with  a 
cord.  Both  lads  lent  their  aid,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  we  had  a  big  lean-to  on  the 
windward  side.  It  was  not  finished  any  too 
soon,  for  the  snow  began  to  fall.  A  snow- 
storm like  this  one  was  as  bad  as  rain,  and  as 
good  as  rain,  too,  for  it  was  heavy,  thick,  and 
wet.  When  the  storm  passed  six  inches  of 
snow  lay  upon  everything.  The  sun  still  hid 
behind  clouds,  but  the  air  was  warm  and  the 
snow  melted  fast. 

193 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Fellars,  it's  gittin'  late,  anyhow,"  said 
Hiram.  "An'  we  couldn't  do  much  in  this 
snow.  We'll  wait  till  to-morrer.  I'll  fence 
up  thet  narrer  trail  so  the  mustangs  can't  give 
us  the  slip." 

We  lounged  around  our  camp,  made  a  meal 
on  biscuits  and  snowballs,  and  rolled  in  our 
blankets  to  sleep  soundly.  Hiram  awakened 
us  early.  We  ate  what  little  we  had  left, 
and,  as  the  sun  rose  red  and  warm,  we  were 
eager  to  begin  the  day's  adventure. 

"Let's  all  take  a  look  at  the  mustangs," 
suggested  Hiram. 

There  were  patches  of  snow  left  in  shady 
places,  and  the  ground  was  soft  and  soggy. 
We  followed  Hiram  out  of  the  cedars,  through 
brush  and  round  huge  boulders,  and  finally 
crawled  to  a  point  on  the  edge  of  the  bluff. 

"Look  at  thet!  Jest  look!"  whispered 
Hiram,  hoarsely. 

The  bare  promontory  glistened  in  the  morn- 
ing sunlight,  and  right  in  the  middle  of  it  was 
the  band  of  wild  mustangs.  There  were 
whites  and  blacks  and  bays. 

"There's  Wings!"  burst  out  Hal. 

"S-s-sh.     Not  so  loud  thar,"  said  Hiram. 
194 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

"What  are  they  doing?"  asked  Ken,  in 
eager  interest. 

"The  snow's  melted,  an'  they're  drinkin' 
out  of  the  little  pockets  in  the  rock." 

"Well! — it's  great!"  replied  Ken. 

I  shared  his  delight.  To  my  mind  there 
could  not  have  been  a  more  beautiful  sight 
than  the  mustangs  drinking  on  that  promon- 
tory. The  mustangs  looked  wild.  They  were 
shaggy.  Long  manes  waved  in  the  breeze. 
The  leader  of  the  band,  a  fine,  keen-looking 
white,  stood  on  guard.  His  attitude  showed 
pride  as  well  as  suspicion.  He  held  his  head 
up  and  he  was  looking  our  way.  Beyond  the 
promontory  yawned  the  blue  shadow  of  an 
abyss,  and  beyond  that  lifted  a  bold  red  bluff, 
and  farther  on  loomed  a  great  dome.  And 
all  around  to  left  and  right  were  the  ragged 
ridges  of  rock  and  the  dark  clefts  between  the 
cliffs.  It  was  a  wild  background  for  these 
wild  rangers  of  the  wilderness. 

"  Thet  white  fellar's  winded  us,  I  do  believe," 
said  Hiram.  "  Wai,  I  reckon  it  doesn't  make 
no  difference  to  us.  He  can't  git  out." 

"Hiram,  may  I  take  a  picture  of  that 
bunch?"  asked  Ken. 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"Shore.  But  you  must  go  down  through 
the  crack  in  the  rocks  thar,  an'  then  crawl 
as  close  as  you  can." 

Ken  slipped  away,  and  soon  returned  to  us, 
enthusiastic  over  his  picture  and  more  than 
enthusiastic  over  the  beauty  of  some  of  the 
mustangs. 

"Why,  Hal,  my  mustang  is  nowhere  for 
looks.  And  Wings — he's  like  a  dub  compared 
to  some  of  the  ponies  in  that  band." 

"Wai,  it  ain't  goin'  to  be  an  all-fired  job 
to  ketch  a  couple  of  mustangs,"  said  Hiram. 
"But  what '11  we  do  with  them?" 

"Shore,  let's  wait  till  we  ketch  some," 
replied  Jim,  wisely. 

"  Hiram,  we  can  turn  them  over  to  the 
Indian,"  I  suggested. 

"Thet's  so.  He'll  drag  them  up  on  the 
plateau,  an'  break  them  for  us." 

"How  are  we  going  to  catch  them?"  I 
asked. 

"Dick,  we've  got  a  place  made  to  order. 
You  all  can  hide  behind  an*  above  thet  crack 
whar  the  trail  comes  up.  I'll  go  down  an* 
drive  the  mustangs  up,  an'  you  fellars  can 
rope  'em  as  they  come  out," 
196 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

"Shore  it'll  be  lively  round  here,"  chuckled 
Jim. 

"Youngsters,  you'd  better  both  lay  for 
Wings  an'  rope  him,"  said  Hiram.  "Jim  an' 
Dick  can  each  rope  a  mustang.  Thetll  be 
enough,  won't  it?" 

"  I  want  to  rope  one  for  myself, "  replied  Hal. 
"  I  don't  care  whether  we  get  Wings  or  not." 

"I'd  like  to  pick  one  out,  too,"  added  Ken. 

"  Wai,  I'm  sure  I  don't  keer  if  you  rope  half 
a  dozen.  Every  man  for  hisself,  then.  Only, 
youngsters,  I'd  advise  you  to  put  on  your 
gloves,  an'  tighten  your  belts,  an'  git  ready 
for  a  warm  time.  It'll  be  easy  to  drop  a  noose 
over  a  mustang's  head,  but  holdin'  him 
mebbe'll  be  another  story.  Git  your  lassoes 
ready,  now." 

Jim  and  the  brothers  took  up  a  position  on 
the  side  of  the  gully  where  we  expected  the 
mustangs  to  come  up,  and  Navvy  and  I  took 
ours  on  the  opposite  side.  Hiram  rattled 
down  over  the  stones  of  the  trail,  with  a  last 
word  to  the  boys  to  make  ready  for  some 
real  sport. 

As  I  had  asked  for  the  loan  of  Wings  from 
my  friend  in  Kanab,  it  fell  to  me  as  a  duty  to 
197 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

catch  the  mustang  if  I  could.  We  waited  for 
quite  a  while,  and  excitement  began  to  verge 
on  strain  when  we  heard  Hiram's  stentorian 
yell.  Following  that  was  a  sound  like  low 
thunder,  then  a  sharp  clattering,  and  then 
the  clear  ringing  of  hard  hoofs  on  stone. 

"  Shore  they're  comin',' '  called  Jim. 

I  had  expected  to  see  the  mustangs  run 
out  of  that  crack  in  single  file.  But  they  burst 
out,  it  seemed,  three  or  four  abreast,  in  a 
cloud  of  dust  and  a  thundering  din.  I  saw 
Jim's  noose  whip  over  a  mustang's  head. 
Then  the  dusty  air  appeared  full  of  flying 
lassoes.  The  mustangs  ran  their  heads  right 
into  the  loops.  I  watched  for  Wings,  but  did 
not  see  him.  In  a  twinkling  the  band  had 
cleared  the  crack  and  were  half  across  the 
cedar  bench.  I  heard  a  confusion  of  yells 
and  pounding  hoofs  and  crashings  in  the 
brush.  But  I  could  not  see  for  dust,  and  had 
to  run  to  one  side  out  of  the  thick  cloud. 

Jim  had  a  white  mustang  down,  and  Navvy 
had  a  bay  well  under  control.  Then  I  saw 
Ken.  In  an  instant  he  was  actually  dodging 
the  plunges  of  a  vicious  pinto.  Ken  had 
roped  one  of  the  band,  but  now  he  did  not 
198 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

know  what  to  do,  except  hold  on.  That  he 
was  doing  valiantly  at  the  risk  of  his  life.  The 
pinto  reared  and,  like  a  furious  deer,  struck 
with  his  fore  hoofs.  Ken  dodged  and  ran  to 
the  extent  of  his  rope  and  hauled  away  with 
all  his  strength.  His  quarry  began  to  leap 
and  pull  and  drag  Ken  through  the  brush. 

"  Hold  hard  thar,  youngster,"  yelled  Hiram. 
He  came  running  out  of  the  crack  in  the  rocks 
and  quickly  laid  his  powerful  grasp  on  Ken's 
rope. 

"Where's  Hal?"  I  yelled.  No  one  heard 
me.  All  were  too  busy.  I  turned  this  way 
and  that.  Finally,  way  off  on  the  bench,  at 
least  a  hundred  yards,  I  saw  a  mustang 
jumping  and  shaking  his  head.  Then  I  saw 
a  tight  lasso  round  his  neck.  I  did  not  wait 
to  see  Hal,  but  started  to  run  with  all  my 
might.  The  mustang,  a  beautiful  slate  color 
with  white  tail  and  mane,  kept  plunging 
through  the  brush,  and  I  knew  he  was  dragging 
Hal.  Then  I  saw  the  boy.  He  was  down, 
but  trying  to  get  up,  and  holding  to  the  lasso 
as  if  he  would  die  before  he  let  go. 

"  Hang  on,  Hal,"  I  cried.  "  He's  a  beauty. 
You've  got  a  prize  Hang  on ! " 

14  199 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Hal  regained  his  feet.  The  mustang  re- 
newed  his  fight  for  freedom.  And  then  began 
a  race.  He  dragged  Hal  so  fast  for  a  little 
while  I  scarcely  gained  at  all.  But  Hal 
tripped  and  fell,  and  as  he  would  not  give  up, 
of  course,  his  weight  held  the  mustang  back. 
I  gained  ground,  reached  Hal,  and  grasped  the 
tight  lasso.  One  jerk  sent  that  savage  mus- 
tang to  his  knees  and  took  away  some  of  his 
breath  and  fire.  He  thrashed  about  and 
wrestled  a  few  more  moments,  and  then 
squared  away,  fore  hoofs  braced,  and,  refusing 
to  budge,  watched  me  with  wild  eyes. 
Promptly  I  tied  the  lasso  to  a  stout  bush. 
Again  he  began  to  rear  and  jump,  and  as  the 
rope  did  not  give  an  inch  he  choked  himself 
pretty  thoroughly,  and  at  length  fell  flat.  I 
hurried  up  and  loosened  the  noose  and  tied 
a  knot  that  would  not  slip. 

"  He's  ours — Hal ;  where  are  you ? "  I  yelled. 

It  was  a  sorry-looking  lad  I  found  half 
sitting  up  in  the  brush.  Dust-covered, 
scratched  and  bloody,  with  his  clothes  in 
tatters,  Hal  Ward  was  a  sight. 

"  I'm  all  right  except  my  wrists .  They  're  all 
skinned  from  the  rope,"  he  said.  "Gee! 


WILD    MUSTANGS 

What  a  pony!  Say,  Dick,  is  he  hurt?  He 
breathes  so  hard." 

"  He's  just  winded  and  scared.  We'll  leave 
him  here  till  we  find  out  what  to  do  with  him. 
Let's  go  back.'* 

We  returned  to  camp,  where  Hal  was  greeted 
with  solicitude,  and  then,  when  it  became 
known  that  he  had  not  been  hurt,  there  was 
uproarious  mirth  at  his  appearance. 

"  I  don't  care.  I  got  the  blue-ribbon  winner 
of  that  bunch,"  retorted  Hal. 

So  indeed  it  turned  out.  Hal's  mustang 
was  a  beauty,  one  and  all  agreeing  that  he 
was  about  the  wildest  and  raciest  and  most 
beautiful  little  horse  we  had  ever  seen. 

"Wai,  I  'ain't  noticed  thet  any  of  you 
ketched  Wings,"  said  Hiram. 

For  that  matter  not  one  of  us  had  even  seen 
the  mustang.  Hiram  said  that  it  was  rather 
strange,  and  he  went  back  down  to  the 
promontory.  Upon  his  return  he  told  us 
that  Wings  was  down  there  and  could  be 
readily  caught. 

"  He  turned  back,  I  reckon,"  went  on  Hiram. 
"An*  now,  fellars,  let's  figure  things.  We've 
had  a  right  smart  bit  of  luck.  But  we  can't 

201 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

take  all  these  wild  mustangs  up  on  the  plateau 
with  us.  Let's  put  them  down  on  thet  bench, 
an'  close  up  this  crack  so  they'll  be  corralled. 
Then  we  can  git  them  on  our  way  back  to 
Kanab." 

That  appeared  to  be  a  wise  solution  to  our 
problem  for  the  present.  Wild  mustangs 
are  apt  to  be  white  elephants  on  hunters' 
hands.  So,  while  Hiram  and  Jim  went  down 
to  catch  Wings,  the  Navajo  half  led  and  half 
dragged  our  captured  mustangs  down  through 
the  crack  to  the  promontory. 

"  I  reckoned,"  said  Hiram,  upon  his  return 
with  Wings,  "thet  it'd  be  best  to  leave  the 
lassoes  trailin'  on  the  mustangs.  We  don't 
run  much  risk  of  one  chokin'.  An'  we  can 
ketch  them  easy  when  we  come  back.  Now 
to  build  thet  corral  gate.  Everybody  rustle 
for  big  branches  of  cedar." 

An  hour  of  hard  work  saw  the  task  com- 
pleted, and  it  gave  us  much  satisfaction. 
Then  we  mounted  and  took  our  own  back- 
trail  toward  the  Saddle  and  the  plateau  camp. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SPI.TT  TRAILS 

WHEN  we  trooped  out  of  the  pines  next 
morning,  the  sun,  rising  gloriously  bright, 
had  already  taken  off  the  keen  edge  of  the  frosty 
air.  The  ridges  glistened  in  their  white  dress, 
and  the  bunches  of  sage  and  the  cedars,  tipped 
with  snow,  were  like  trees  laden  with  blossoms. 

We  rode  swiftly  to  the  mouth  of  Left  Canon, 
into  which  Jim  had  trailed  three  lions.  On 
the  way  the  snow,  as  we  had  expected,  began 
to  thin  out,  and  it  failed  altogether  under  the 
cedars,  though  there  was  enough  on  the 
branches  to  give  us  a  drenching. 

Jim  reined  in  on  the  verge  of  a  narrow  gorge, 
and  told  us  that  a  lion's  cave  was  below. 
Hiram  looked  the  ground  over  and  said  Jim 
had  better  take  the  hounds  down  while  the 
rest  of  us  waited  above,  ready  for  whatever 
might  happen. 

203 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Jim  went  down  on  loot,  calling  the  hounds 
and  holding  them  close.  We  listened  eagerly 
for  his  call  or  the  outbreak  of  the  pack,  but 
there  was  no  sound.  In  less  than  half  an 
hour  he  came  climbing  out,  with  the  informa- 
tion that  the  lions  had  left  the  cave,  probably 
the  evening  after  he  had  chased  them  there. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Hiram,  "let's  split  the 
pack  an'  hunt  round  the  rims  of  these  canons. 
We  can  signal  to  each  other  if  necessary." 

So  we  arranged  for  Jim  and  Hal  to  take 
Ranger  and  the  pup  across  Left  Canon, 
Hiram  to  try  Middle  Canon  with  Tan  and 
Mux,  and  Ken  and  I  were  to  perform  a  like 
office  in  Right  Canon  with  Prince  and  Queen. 
Hiram  rode  back  with  us,  leaving  us  where 
we  crossed  Middle  Canon. 

Ken  and  I  skirted  a  mile  of  our  canon  and 
worked  out  almost  to  the  west  end  of  the  Bay, 
without  finding  so  much  as  a  single  track. 
Then  we  started  back.  The  sun  was  now  hot; 
the  snow  all  gone;  the  ground  dry  as  if  it  had 
never  been  damp;  and  we  complained  that 
our  morning  was  a  failure. 

We  reached  the  ragged  mouth  of  Right 
Canon  where  it  opened  into  the  deep,  wide 
204 


SPLIT   TRAILS 

Bay,  and  rode  close  to  the  rim  because  we 
hoped  to  hear  our  companions  across  the  canon, 
The  hounds  began  to  bark  on  a  cliff,  but  as  we 
could  find  no  tracks  in  the  dust  we  called 
them  off.  Queen  obeyed  reluctantly,  but 
Prince  wanted  to  get  down  over  the  wall. 

"They  scent  a  lion,"  I  declared.  "Let's 
put  them  over  the  wall." 

Once  permitted  to  go  the  hounds  needed  no 
assistance.  They  ran  up  and  down  the  rim 
till  they  found  a  crack  which  would  admit 
them.  Hardly  had  they  vanished  when  we 
heard  them  yelping.  We  rushed  to  the  rim 
and  looked  over.  The  first  step  was  short,  a 
crumbled  section  of  wall,  and  from  it  led 
down  a  long  slope,  dotted  here  and  there  with 
cedars.  Both  hounds  were  baying  furiously. 

I  looked  the  canon  over  carefully  and 
decided  that  it  was  a  bad  place  to  venture 
into. 

"Ken,  it's  hard  to  tell  which  way  the 
hounds  run  in  these  canons.  I  think  Queen 
is  heading  up.  Anyway,  I'll  go  that  way, 
and  you  go  down  here.  We'll  get  separated, 
but  don't  forget  the  signal  yell." 

With  that  I  proceeded  along  the  rim  to  the 
205 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

left,  making  sure  I  heard  a  hound  in  that 
direction.  It  was  rough,  hard  going,  and  in 
the  excitement  of  it  I  forgot  how  much  ground 
I  was  covering.  I  came  to  a  place,  presently, 
where  I  determined  to  go  down,  and  leaving 
spurs,  chaps,  gun,  coat  and  hat  on  the  rim,  I 
started  down,  carrying  only  my  lasso.  The 
slope  was  steep,  a  long  incline  of  scaly,  rotting 
rock,  growing  rougher  toward  the  bottom.  I 
heard  the  baying  of  a  hound,  to  my  right  and 
turned  in  that  direction.  Soon  I  was  among 
huge  rocks  and  windfalls  of  cedar.  Through 
this  it  was  impossible  to  keep  a  straight  line. 
I  turned  and  twisted.  But  as  I  continued  to 
hear  the  baying  of  the  hound  I  thought  I 
could  not  be  going  wrong.  In  this  way  time 
passed,  yet  still  I  did  not  seem  to  get  any 
closer  to  the  dog,  and  though  I  yelled  for  Ken 
I  got  no  response.  Working  more  to  the  left 
of  the  dense  jumble  of  weathered  rock  and 
thicket  of  dead  cedars  I  made  better  progress. 
All  the  time,  though  I  appeared  to  be  in  the 
bottom  of  a  canon,  I  was  descending  rapidly. 
Then  the  louder  baying  of  the  hound  and  yells 
from  Ken  spurred  me  forward.  Another 
shout  guided  me  to  the  right,  and  running 
206 


SPLIT   TRAILS 

through  a  clump  of  cedars  I  came  out  upon  the 
edge  of  a  deep,  narrow  cleft. 

Up  on  the  opposite  slope  I  saw  Queen  with 
her  paws  on  a  cedar  and  above  her  clung  a 
lion,  so  close  that  she  could  nearly  reach  him. 
Prince  was  nowhere  in  sight,  nor  was  Ken. 

"Ho!  Ken!  "I  yelled. 

"Hi!  Hi!  Dick!"  his  reply  came  down  the 
canon,  and  both  yells  blended  in  a  roar  that 
banged  back  and  forth  in  echo  from  the  cliffs. 

I  ran  up  the  canon  a  little  way,  to  find  my 
passage  blocked,  unless  I  chose  to  go  far 
around.  Then  I  hurried  back,  only  to  see 
that  I  could  not  get  across  below.  In  my 
excitement  I  thought  of  leaping  across  and 
searched  for  the  narrowest  place.  But  the 
split  was  quite  twenty  feet  wide  and  I  dared 
not  risk  it. 

"  Ken,  I'm  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  canon," 
I  yelled. 

"Go  back— head  it,"  he  replied.  "Here's 
the  lion — treed. ' ' 

"  It's  too  far  back  that  way — it  would  take 
an  hour  to  climb  round — no  help  for  it." 

Then  I  climbed  up  a  little  so  as  to  be  on  a 
level  with  the  lion.  The  cedar  that  held  him 
207 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

was  perhaps  fifty  paces  away.  Ken  came 
down,  and  there  we  were,  a  few  feet  apart, 
in  easy  talking  distance,  yet  widely  separated 
in  so  far  as  any  help  to  each  other  was  con- 
cerned. 

"Where's  Prince?  Look  out  for  him.  I 
hear  him  below.  This  lion  won't  stay  treed 
long,"  shouted  Ken. 

I,  too,  heard  Prince.  A  cedar-tree  ob- 
structed my  view,  and  I  moved  aside.  A 
few  hundred  feet  farther  down  the  hound 
bayed  under  a  tall  pifion.  High  in  the 
branches  I  saw  a  great  mass  of  yellow.  How 
I  yelled!  Then  a  second  glance  showed  two 
lions  close  together. 

uTwo  more!  two  more!  Look!  look!"  I 
screamed  to  Ken. 

"Hi!  Hi!  Hi!"  he  joined  his  yell  to  mine, 
and  for  a  moment  we  made  the  canon  bellow. 
When  we  stopped  for  breath  the  echoes  bayed 
at  us  from  the  opposite  walls. 

"  Waa-hoo ! ' '  Hiram's  signal,  faint,  far  away, 
soaring,  but  unmistakable,  floated  down  to  us. 
Across  the  jutting  capes  separating  the  mouths 
of  these  canons,  high  above  them  on  the  rim- 
wall  of  the  opposite  side  of  the  Bay,  stood  a 
208 


SPLIT    TRAILS 

giant  white  horse  bearing  Hiram's  dark  figure 
silhouetted  against  the  white  sky.  They 
made  a  brave  picture,  one  most  welcome  to  us. 
We  yelled  in  chorus:  "Three  lions  treed! 
Three  lions  treed !  Come  down — hurry ! ' ' 

A  crash  of  rolling  stones  made  us  wheel. 
Queen's  lion  had  jumped.  He  ran  straight 
down,  drawing  Prince  from  his  guard.  Queen 
went  tearing  after  them. 

"  What  on  earth  will  we  do  now? ' '  cried  Ken. 

"Keep  the  other  lions  treed — if  you  can," 
I  replied,  running  along  the  canon  till  I  neared 
the  pifion  tree.  Ken  clambered  over  the  rocks 
on  his  side.  We  kept  yelling  for  Hiram. 
Presently  Ken  was  under  the  pifion,  and  I  at 
a  point  opposite.  We  were  now  some  thirty 
rods  apart,  but  I  was  utterly  useless  to  Ken 
except  in  the  way  of  advice  and  encourage- 
ment. So  for  minutes  we  caught  our  breath 
and  waited. 

"Gee!  two  big  fellows!  And  they  look  as 
scared  as  I  am,"  called  Ken. 

"That's  good.     Keep  them  scared.  ...  I 

hear  Hiram  coming.  .  .  .  Hi!  Hi!     This  way, 

Hiram.  .  .  .  Ken,  just  listen  to  Hiram  rolling 

the  rocks,    He's  coming  like  an  avalanche." 

209 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Bits  of  weathered  rock  clattered  down 
the  slope,  and  the  old  hunter  was  at  their 
heels. 

"  Whar  are  the  hounds?"  he  yelled. 

"  Gone  down  after  the  third  lion,"  I  replied. 
"  They've  treed  him  down  there." 

"Wai,  thet's  good.  Now  you  fellars  keep 
these  cougars  treed.  It'll  be  easy.  Bark 
at  'em  like  dogs,  an'  if  one  starts  down,  grab 
a  club  and  run  at  him  as  if  you  was  goin'  to  kill 
him.  Bang  on  the  tree.  Beat  the  branches, 
an'  yell.  You  can  keep  'em  up  thar  till  I  git 
back  with  the  hounds." 

With  that,  Hiram,  like  a  giant  with  seven- 
league  boots,  disappeared  down  the  slope.  It 
had  all  happened  so  quickly  that  I  could 
scarcely  realize  it.  The  yelping  of  the  hounds, 
the  clattering  of  stones  grew  fainter,  telling 
me  that  Prince  and  Queen,  and  Hiram  too, 
were  going  to  the  bottom  of  the  Bay. 

"  Ken,  have  you  got  your  gun  ? "  I  called. 

"No,  I  left  everything  but  my  rope,"  he 
replied. 

Then  the  two  snarling  lions  brought  me  to  a 
keen  sense  of  the  reality.  Ken  had  a  job  on 
his  hands:  two  almost  full-grown  lions  to  be 

210 


SPLIT    TRAILS 

kept  treed  without  hounds,  without  a  gun, 
without  help  from  a  companion. 

"Say!  this  is  funny!"  yelled  Ken.  "Dick, 
I'm  scared  sick,  but  I  hate  to  quit.  ...  I'll 
stick.  I'll  do  what  Hiram  told  me  to." 

It  occurred  to  me  then  that  Hiram  probably 
had  not  noticed  Ken  was  without  his  gun,  or 
that  I  was  separated  from  him  by  the  narrow, 
deep  chasm. 

Ken  began  to  bark  like  a  dog  at  the  lions. 

About  this  moment  I  heard  hounds,  but 
could  not  tell  their  direction.  I  called  and 
called.  Presently  a  faint  chorus  of  bays  and 
a  yell  from  Hiram  told  that  his  lion  had 
surely  treed. 

"Waa-hoo!"  rolled  down  from  above. 

Far  up  behind  me,  on  the  yellow  cracked 
rim,  stood  Jim  Williams. 

"  Where — can — I — git — down  ? ' ' 

I  surveyed  the  walls.  Cliff  on  cliff,  slide  on 
slide,  jumble,  crag,  and  ruin  baffled  my  gaze. 
But  finally  I  picked  out  a  place. 

"To  the  left— to  the  left,"  I  yelled.  He 
passed  on  with  one  of  the  hounds  at  his  heels. 
"  There!  let  the  dog  down  on  a  rope  and  then 
yourself." 

211 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

I  watched  him  swing  the  hound,  which  1 
recognized  as  Ringer,  down  a  wall  and  pull 
the  slip  noose  free. 

"This  doesn't  seem  so  bad,"  called  Ken, 
who  evidently  was  recovering  his  nerve. 
Then  he  saw  Jim  above.  "  Hi,  Jim!  Where's 
H-a-1?" 

Jim  put  both  hands  around  his  mouth  and 
formed  a  trumpet.  "  Hal's  lost — somewhere 
— he  an'  the  pup — split  trails." 

"  Ken,  it's  going  to  be  a  great  day — for 
all  of  us,"  I  shouted.  "  Don't  worry  and  stay 
with  your  lions," 

Then  I  watched  Ringer  slide  to  the  edge  of 
a  slope,  trot  to  the  right  and  left  of  crags  and 
turn  down  in  the  direction  of  the  baying 
hounds.  He  passed  along  the  verge  of  preci- 
pices that  made  me  tremble  for  him,  but,  sure- 
footed as  a  goat,  he  went  on  safely,  to  dis- 
appear far  to  my  right. 

I  saw  Jim  with  his  leg  wrapped  in  his  lasso 
sliding  down  the  first  step  of  the  rim.  The 
rope,  doubled  to  reach  round  a  cedar  above, 
was  too  short  to  extend  to  the  landing  below. 
Jim  dropped,  raising  a  cloud  of  dust  and 
starting  the  stones.  Pulling  his  lasso  after 

212 


SPLIT    TRAILS 

him,  he  gathered  it  in  a  coil  on  his  arm,  and 
faced  forward  on  the  trail  of  the  hound.  In 
the  clear  light,  against  that  wild  red-and- 
yellow  background,  with  the  stones  and  gravel 
roaring  down,  streaming  over  the  walls  like 
waterfalls,  he  seemed  another  giant,  striding 
on  in  seven-league  boots.  I  would  have 
called  him  to  come  down  to  help  Ken,  but  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  get  to  us.  From 
time  to  time  he  sent  up  a  yell  of  encouragement 
that  wound  down  the  canon,  to  be  answered 
by  Hiram  and  the  baying  hounds,  and  then 
the  strange,  clapping  echoes.  At  last  he 
passed  out  of  sight,  and  still  I  heard  him  going 
down,  down  till  the  sounds  were  only  faint 
and  hollow. 

Ken  was  now  practically  alone  with  his  two 
treed  lions,  and  I  knew  that  no  hunter  was 
ever  so  delighted.  He  had  entirely  recovered 
from  his  first  panicky  feeling.  I  sat  there  in 
the  sun  watching  him.  He  stood  on  the  slope, 
just  under  the  edge  of  the  pifion  branches,  and 
he  had  a  long  club  in  his  hand.  The  situation 
was  so  singular  that  I  could  have  laughed, 
but  for  the  peril.  The  idea  of  Ken  keeping 
those  big  cougars  treed  with  a  club  was  almost 
213 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

too  ridiculous  to  consider,  yet  all  the  same  it 
was  true.  For  a  long  time  the  cougars  were 
quiet,  listening.  However,  as  the  baying  of 
the  hounds  diminished  in  volume  and  occur- 
rence, and  then  ceased  altogether,  Ken's 
quarry  became  restless.  It  was  then  that  he 
began  to  bark  like  a  dog,  whereupon  the  lions 
grew  quiet  once  more. 

"That's  the  way,  Ken.  You're  the  best 
hound  in  the  pack.  You've  got  a  fine  bark 
there.  Keep  it  up,"  I  shouted. 

As  long  as  Ken  barked  or  bayed  or  yelped 
the  cougars  remained  comparatively  quiet. 
Ken,  however,  began  to  weaken  in  voice  and 
finally  lost  it. 

"Dick,  you'll  have  to  bark  some,"  he  said, 
and  I  could  scarcely  hear  him. 

At  that  I  willingly  began  to  imitate  Prince 
and  Ringer  and  Mux-Mux.  It  was  easy  at 
first,  but  soon  it  became  a  task.  I  bayed 
for  an  hour.  My  voice  grew  hoarser  and 
hoarser,  and  finally  failed  in  my  throat.  In 
order  to  get  out  a  few  bays  I  had  to  rest  for 
a  moment.  Soon  I  was  compelled  to  stop. 
The  cougars  immediately  grew  restless  and 
then  active. 

214 


SPLIT    TRAILS 

"Ken,  you've  got  to  do  something,"  I 
called,  in  strained,  weak  tones. 

The  lower  lion  hissed  and  spat  and  growled 
at  Ken,  and  made  many  attempts  to  start 
down.  Ken  frustrated  these  by  hitting  the 
cougar  with  stones.  Every  time  Ken  threw 
he  struck  his  mark.  Even  this  punishment, 
however,  did  not  long  intimidate  the  beast, 
and  he  grew  bolder  and  bolder.  At  length  he 
made  a  more  determined  effort,  and  stepped 
from  branch  to  branch. 

Ken  dashed  down  the  incline  with  a  stone 
in  one  hand  and  a  long  club  in  the  other.  I 
tried  to  shout  advice,  but  I  doubt  if  Ken  heard. 
He  aimed  deliberately  at  the  lion,  threw  the 
stone  and  hit  him  squarely  in  the  ribs.  That 
brought  a  roar  which  raised  my  hair.  Then 
directly  under  him  Ken  wielded  his  club, 
pounding  on  the  tree,  thrashing  at  the 
branches. 

"Go  back!  go  back!"  yelled  Ken.  "Don't 
you  dare  come  down!  I'll  crack  your  old 
head." 

The  cougar  came  almost  within  reach  of 
Ken's  club.  I  wondered  at  the  way  the  boy 
held  his  post.  Many  as  were  the  daring 
15  215 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

achievements  Ken  Ward  had  executed  before 
my  eyes,  this  one  eclipsed  them  all.  I  was 
chilled  with  fear.  I  was  in  distress  because  I 
could  not  raise  my  hand  to  help  him. 

Ken  must  have  been  in  an  unreasoning 
frenzy.  He  ran  round  the  pifion,  keeping 
directly  under  the  cougar,  and  intercepting 
him  at  every  turn.  More  than  once  the  beast 
crouched  as  if  to  spring,  and  was  only  deterred 
from  that  by  Ken's  savage  attacks.  Finally 
he  had  luck  enough  to  give  the  cougar  a  ring- 
ing blow  on  the  head.  This,  for  the  moment, 
stopped  the  descent,  for  the  big  cat  climbed 
back  to  his  perch  beside  his  mate. 

In  the  momentary  lull  of  battle  I  heard  the 
faint  yelp  of  a  hound. 

"Listen,  Ken! "I cried. 

I  listened,  too.  It  came  again,  faint  but 
clearer.  I  looked  up  at  the  lions.  They,  too, 
heard,  for  they  were  very  still.  I  saw  their 
heads  raised  and  tense.  I  backed  a  little  way 
up  the  slope.  Then  the  faint  yelp  floated  up 
again  in  the  dead,  strange  silence.  I  saw  the 
lions  quiver,  and  it  seemed  as  if  I  heard  their 
hearts  thump.  The  yelp  was  wafted  up  again, 
closer  this  time.  I  recognized  it;  it  belonged 
216 


SPLIT   TRAILS 

to  Prince.     The  great  hound  was  on  the  back- 
trail  of  the  other  lion,  coming  to  Ken's  rescue. 

"It's  Prince!  It's  Prince!  It's  Prince!"  I 
cried.  "  It's  all  up  now ! ' ' 

What  feelings  stirred  me  then!  Gladness 
and  relief  for  Ken  dominated  me.  Pity  for 
those  lions  I  felt  also.  Big,  tawny,  cruel 
fellows  as  they  were,  they  shivered  with  fright. 
Their  sides  trembled.  But  pity  did  not  hold 
me  long ;  Prince's  yelp,  now  growing  clear  and 
sharp,  brought  back  the  savage  instinct  of 
the  hunter. 

A  full-toned  bay  attracted  my  attention 
from  the  lions  to  the  downward  slope.  I  saw 
a  yellow  form  moving  under  the  trees  and 
climbing  fast.  It  was  Prince. 

"Hi!  Hi!  old  boy!"  I  yelled. 

Up  he  came  like  a  shot  and  sprang  against 
the  pinon,  his  deep  bay  ringing  defiance  to 
the  lions. 

It  was  very  comfortable,  but  I  felt  it 
sary  to  sit  down  just  then. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

STRENUOUS   WORK 

down  now,  you  cougars,"  yelled 
Ken,  defiantly  shaking  his  broken  club. 
"  I  dare  you  now.  Old  Prince  is  here.  You 
can't  catch  that  hound,  and  you  can't  get 
away  from  him." 

Ken  had  evidently  contracted  Hiram's 
habit  of  talking  to  cougars  as  if  they  were 
human. 

"Oh,  Ken  Ward,  it  was  tough  on  you,"  I 
said,  "and  tough  on  me,  too.  But  we're  all 
right  now." 

Moments  passed.  I  was  just  on  the  point 
of  deciding  to  go  down  to  hurry  up  our  com- 
rades, when  I  heard  the  other  hounds  coming. 
Yelp  on  yelp,  bay  on  bay,  made  welcome 
music  to  my  ears.  Then  a  black-and-yellow, 
swiftly  flying  string  of  hounds  bore  into  sight 
down  the  slope,  streamed  up  and  circled  the 
pifion. 

218 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

Hiram,  who  at  last  showed  his  tall,  stooping 
form  on  the  steep  of  the  ascent,  seemed  as  long 
in  coming  as  the  hounds  had  been  swift. 

"Did  you  get  the  lion?  Where's  Jim?"  I 
asked,  in  eagerness. 

"Lion  tied — all  fast,"  replied  the  panting 
Hiram.  "Left  Jim — to  guard — him." 

"  What  are  we  to  do  now?"  asked  Ken. 

"Wait— till  I  git— my  breath.  We  can't 
git  both  lions — out  of  one  tree." 

"All  right,"  Ken  replied,  after  a  moment's 
thought.  "  I'll  tie  Curley  and  Mux.  You  go 
up  the  tree.  That  first  lion  will  jump  sure; 
he's  almost  ready  now.  The  other  hounds 
will  tree  him  again  pretty  soon.  If  he  runs 
up  the  canon,  well  and  good." 

"Wai,  theVs  a  good  idee,"  said  Hiram. 
"Hyar,  Leslie,  what 're  you  doin'  over  thar?" 

"  I  couldn't  get  across,"  I  replied. 

"  Hev  you  been  thar  all  the  time,  leavin' 
the  youngster  hyar  alone  with  these  critters  ? ' ' 

"Hiram,  it  couldn't  be  helped.  I  was 
unable  to  do  a  blamed  thing.  But  Ken  made 
a  grand  job  of  it.  Wait  till  I  can  tell  you." 

"Wai,  dog-gone  me!"  exclaimed  the  old 
hunter.  He  pounded  Ken  with  his  big  hand, 
219 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

then  he  began  coiling  his  rope.  "Ken,  you 
go  ahead  and  tie  up  Curley  and  Mux.  You, 
Leslie,  git  ready  to  run  up  the  canon  an'  keep 
track  of  this  cougar  thet's  goin'  to  jump." 

He  began  the  ascent  of  the  pifion.  The 
branches  were  not  too  close,  affording  him 
easy  climbing.  Before  he  looked  for  even  a 
move  on  the  part  of  the  lions,  the  lower  one 
began  stepping  down.  Ken  yelled  a  warning, 
but  Hiram  did  not  have  time  to  take  advan- 
tage of  it.  He  had  half  turned,  meaning  to 
swing  out  and  drop,  when  the  lion  planted 
both  fore  paws  upon  his  back.  Hiram  went 
sprawling  down,  with  the  lion  almost  on 
him. 

Prince  had  his  teeth  in  the  lion  before  he 
touched  the  ground,  and  when  he  did  strike 
the  rest  of  the  hounds  were  on  him.  A  cloud 
of  dust  rolled  down  the  slope.  The  lion  broke 
loose  and  with  great,  springy  bounds  ran  up 
the  canon,  Prince  and  his  followers  hot-footing 
it  after  him. 

Mux  and  Curley  broke  the  dead  sapling  to 
which  Ken  had  tied  them,  and  dragging  it 
behind  them,  endeavored  in  frenzied  action  to 
join  the  chase.  Ken  drew  them  back,  loosen- 

220 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

mg  the  rope,  so  in  case  the  other  lion  jumped 
he  could  free  them  quickly. 

Hiram  calmly  gathered  himself  up,  rear- 
ranged his  lasso,  took  his  long  stick  and  pro- 
ceeded to  mount  the  pifion  again.  I  waited 
till  I  saw  him  slip  the  noose  over  the  lion's 
head,  then  I  ran  up  the  slope.  I  passed  peril- 
ously near  the  precipice  and  then  began  to 
climb.  The  baying  of  the  hounds  directed  me. 
In  the  box  of  yellow  walls  the  chorus  seemed 
to  come  from  a  hundred  dogs. 

When  I  found  them,  close  to  a  low  cliff, 
baying  the  lion  in  a  thick  dark  pinon,  Ringer 
leaped  into  my  arms,  and  next  Prince  stood 
up  against  me  with  his  paws  on  my  shoulders. 
These  were  strange  actions,  and  though  I 
marked  it  at  the  moment,  I  had  ceased  to 
wonder  at  our  hounds.  I  took  one  look  at 
the  lion  in  the  dark  shade,  and  then  climbed 
to  the  low  cliff  and  sat  down.  I  called  Prince 
to  me  and  held  him.  In  case  our  quarry 
leaped  upon  the  cliff  I  wanted  a  hound  to  put 
quickly  on  his  trail. 

Another  hour  passed.  It  must  have  been 
a  dark  hour  for  the  lion — he  looked  as  if  it 
were — and  one  of  impatience  for  the  baying 

221 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

hounds,  but  for  me  it  was  an  hour  of  enjoy- 
ment. Alone  with  the  hounds  and  a  lion, 
walled  in  by  wild-colored  cliffs,  with  the  dry 
sweet  smell  of  cedar  and  pinon,  I  asked  no 
more,  only  that  I  wished  Ken  had  been  there. 

Curley  and  Mux,  yelping  as  they  came,  were 
forerunners  of  Hiram.  I  saw  his  gray  locks 
waving  in  the  breeze,  and  shouted  to  him  to 
take  his  time.  As  he  reached  me  the  lion 
jumped  and  ran  up  the  canon.  This  suited 
me,  for  I  knew  he  would  take  to  a  tree  soon, 
and  the  farther  up  he  went  the  less  distance 
we  would  have  to  pack  him.  From  the  cliff 
I  saw  him  run  up  a  slope,  pass  a  big  cedar, 
cunningly  turn  on  his  trail,  and  then  climb 
into  the  tree  and  hide  in  its  thickest  part. 
Prince  passed  him,  got  off  the  trail,  and  ran 
at  fault.  The  others,  so  used  to  his  leadership, 
were  also  baffled.  But  Queen,  crippled  and 
slow,  brought  up  the  rear,  and  she  did  not  go 
a  yard  beyond  where  the  lion  turned.  She 
opened  up  her  deep  call  under  the  cedar,  and 
in  a  moment  the  howling  pack  were  around 
her. 

Hiram  and  I  toiled  laboriously  upward. 
He  had  brought  my  lasso,  and  he  handed  it 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

to  me  with  the  significant  remark  that  I  would 
soon  have  need  of  it. 

The  cedar  was  bushy  and  overhung  a  yellow, 
bare  slope  which  made  Hiram  shake  his  head. 
He  climbed  the  tree,  lassoed  the  spitting  lion 
and  then  leaped  down  to  my  side.  By  united 
and  determined  efforts  we  pulled  the  lion  off 
the  limb  and  let  him  down.  The  hounds 
began  to  leap  at  him.  We  both  roared  in  rage 
at  them,  but  to  no  avail. 

"Hold  on  thar!"  shouted  Hiram,  leaving 
me  with  the  lasso  while  he  sprang  for- 
ward. 

The  weight  of  the  animal  dragged  me  for- 
ward and,  had  I  not  taken  a  half-hitch  round 
a  snag,  would  have  lifted  me  off  my  feet  or 
pulled  the  lasso  from  my  hands.  As  it  was, 
the  choking  lion,  now  within  reach  of  the 
furious  leaping  hounds,  swung  to  and  fro 
before  my  face.  His  frantic  lunges  narrowly 
missed  me. 

Hiram  grasped  Prince  by  the  hind  legs  and 
pitched  him  down  the  slope.  Prince  rolled  a 
hundred  feet  before  he  caught  himself.  Then 
Hiram  threw  old  Mux  and  Ringer  and  Curley, 
but  he  let  Queen  alone.  Before  the  hounds 
223 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

could  climb  the  slope  Hiram  roped  the  lion 
again  and  made  fast  his  lasso  to  a  tree. 

"  Let  go,"  he  yelled  to  me. 

The  lion  fell.  Hiram  grasped  the  lasso  1 
had  held  and  then  called  to  me  to  stop  the 
hounds.  By  the  time  I  had  checked  them 
he  had  the  lion  securely  tied.  This  beast 
was  the  bold  fellow  which  had  given  Ken 
such  a  battle.  He  lay  now,  his  sides  heaving, 
glaring  and  spitting  at  us. 

"Leslie — I'm  all  in,"  panted  Hiram. 
"Climbin'  them  awful  slopes — ketches  me  in 
the  heart.  I  can't  go  down  agin.  Thar's 
Jim  guardin '  the  first  cougar.  Ken  is  watchin ' 
the  second,  the  one  I  fastened  with  chain  an* 
lasso  to  a  swingin'  branch.  An'  hyar's  the 
third.  Three  cougars!  .  .  .  Wai,  I  never  beat 
thet  in  my  life.  An'  I  want  the  day  to  be  a 
great  success  fer  Ken's  sake." 

"  Hiram,  when  you've  rested  go  after  the 
pack-horses.  Bring  them  all  and  the  packs 
and  Navvy,  too.  You  take  the  hounds  with 
you  and  leave  them  in  camp.  Ken  and  I 
will  tie  up  the  second  lion.  Then  we'll  call 
Jim  up  and  pack  the  two  lions  up  here  to  this 
one.  You  meet  us  here." 
224 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

"Mind  you,  thet  second  cougar's  loose 
except  fer  collar  an'  chain.  His  claws  hevn't 
been  clipped.  Hell  fight.  An'  it'll  be  a  job 
to  pack  'em  up  hyar.  But  I  can't  climb  no 
more." 

"Find  your  horse  and  hustle  for  camp,"  I 
replied. 

Hiram  wearily  climbed  the  slope,  followed 
by  the  hounds,  and  I  took  the  back-trail  down 
into  the  canon.  I  noted,  now  that  I  was  calm, 
what  a  long  distance  we  had  covered.  I  made 
fast  time,  however,  and  soon  found  Ken  stand- 
ing guard  over  his  captive.  This  lion  had 
been  tied  to  an  overhanging  branch  which 
swung  violently  with  every  move  he  made. 

"Say!  did  you  get  the  third  one?"  asked 
Ken. 

"You  bet  we  did." 

"Now  what?" 

"Well,  I'll  go  down  until  I  can  make  Jim 
hear.  I'll  call  him  to  come  up  with  his  lion. 
You  stay  here  till  I  get  back." 

It  was  another  long  tramp  down  to  the  edge 

of  that  slope,  but  I  reached  it  and  yelled   for 

Jim.     He  answered,  and  then  I  told  him  to 

come  up  with  his  cougar.    I  sat  down  to  wait 

225 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

for  him,  thinking  he  would  be  glad  of  a  little 
help.  An  hour  and  a  half  passed  before  I 
heard  the  sliding  of  stones  below  which  told 
me  Jim  was  coming.  He  appeared  on  the 
lower  slope  carrying  the  lion  head  downward. 
Manifestly  he  was  having  toilsome  work.  He 
could  climb  only  a  few  steps  without  lowering 
his  burden  and  resting. 

I  ran  down  to  meet  him.  He  was  red  of 
face,  wringing  wet  with  sweat,  and  almost 
out  of  breath  and  patience. 

"  Shore  —  I'm  'most — tuck  —  ered  out, ' '  he 
said. 

We  secured  a  stout  pole,  and  slipping  this 
between  the  paws  of  the  lion,  below  where  they 
were  tied,  we  managed  to  carry  him  fairly  well. 
But  he  was  heavy,  the  slope  was  steep,  the 
sliding  stones  treacherous,  and  the  task  nearly 
exhausted  us.  We  climbed  by  the  shortest 
way  and  so  passed  to  the  right  of  Ken.  At 
last  we  toiled  up  to  where  I  had  parted  from 
Hiram.  Jim  fell  in  the  shade  and  breathed 
hard. 

"  Leslie  —  I  —  might  —  git  down  there  —  to 
Ken — but  I'd  never  git  back,  I'm  used  to 
ridin' — a  hoss." 

226 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

So  I  had  to  go  again  alone,  and  discovered 
Ken  sitting  guard  faithfully  over  his  charge. 

"Wasn't  I  gone  a  long  while?"  I  asked. 
"Couldn't  help  it,  Ken." 

"  It  didn't  seem  long  to  me,"  replied  Ken. 

That  was  the  difference  in  time  as  seen 
through  the  eyes  of  fiery  youth  and  enthusi- 
asm. 

"Now  to  tie  that  rascal,"  I  said.  "It's 
coming  to  us,  Ken.  Hiram  didn't  pay  com- 
pliments to  this  particular  cougar.  We'll  cut 
a  piece  off  each  lasso  and  unravel  them  so  as 
to  leave  enough  strings.  I  wish  Hiram  hadn't 
tied  the  lasso  to  that  swinging  branch." 

"I'll  go  up  and  untie  it,"  replied  Ken. 
Acting  upon  this,  he  climbed  the  pinon  and 
started  out  on  the  branch. 

"Hold  on!"  I  warned.  "I'm  afraid  you'd 
better  stop.  How  on  earth  did  Hiram  tie  that 
rope  there,  anyway  ? ' ' 

"  He  bent  the  branch  down." 

"Well,  it's  bending  now,  and  that  darned 
cougar  might  reach  you.  I  don't  like  his 
looks." 

But  despite  this  Ken  slipped  out  a  couple  of 
yards  farther,  and  had  almost  gotten  to  the 
227 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

knotted  lasso,  when  the  branch  swayed  and 
bent  alarmingly.  The  cougar  sprang  from 
his  niche  between  the  tree-trunk  and  a  rock, 
and  crouched  under  Ken,  snarling  and  hissing, 
with  every  intention  of  leaping. 

"Jump!    Jump!"  I  shouted. 

"  I  can't  jump  out  of  his  reach, "  cried  Ken. 

He  raised  his  legs  and  began  to  slide  himself 
back  up  the  branch.  The  cougar  leaped, 
missing  him,  but  scattering  twigs  and  bark. 
Then  the  beast,  beside  himself  with  fury,  half 
leaped,  half  stood  up  and  reached  for  Ken. 

I  saw  his  hooked  claws  fasten  in  Ken's 
leather  wristband  The  lad  yelled  shrilly. 
I  dashed  forward,  grasped  the  lion  by  the  tail, 
and  with  one  powerful  swing  I  tore  him  loose 
and  flung  him  down  the  slope  to  the  full 
extent  of  the  rope.  Quick  as  thought  Ken 
jumped  down,  and  we  both  sought  a  safer 
locality. 

"Whew!"  whistled  Ken,  holding  out  his 
hand. 

"It's  a  nasty  scratch,"  I  said,  binding  my 
handkerchief  round  his  wrist.  "The  leather 
saved  your  hand  from  being  torn  off.  He's 
an  ugly  brute." 

228 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

"Well  tie  him — or — or — "  Ken  declared, 
without  finishing  his  speech. 

"  Ken,  let's  each  take  a  lasso  and  worry  him 
till  we  both  get  hold  of  a  paw." 

Hiram  did  a  fiendish  thing  when  he  tied  that 
lion  to  the  swinging  branch.  It  was  almost 
worse  than  having  him  entirely  free.  He  had 
a  circle  about  twenty  feet  in  diameter  in  which 
he  could  run  and  leap  at  will.  He  seemed  to 
be  in  the  air  all  the  time.  He  sprang  first  at 
Ken,  then  at  me,  mouth  agape,  eyes  wild,  claws 
spread.  We  caught  him  with  our  nooses,  but 
they  would  not  hold.  He  tore  each  noose  off 
before  we  could  draw  it  tight.  Once  I  got  a 
precarious  hold  on  one  hind  paw  and  straight- 
ened my  lasso. 

"  Hold  him  tight,  but  don't  lift  him,"  called 
Ken.  He  held  his  noose  ready,  waiting  for  a 
favorable  chance. 

The  lion  crouched  low,  his  body  tense,  his 
long  tail  lashing  back  and  forth  across  my 
lasso.  Ken  threw  the  loop  in  front  of  the 
spread  paws,  now  half  sunk  into  the  dust. 

"Ease  up,  ease  up,"  said  he.  "Ill  tease 
him  to  jump  into  the  noose."  I  let  my  rope 
sag.  Ken  poked  a  stick  at  the  lion.  All 
229 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

at  once  I  saw  the  slack  in  the  lasso  which  was 
tied  to  the  chain.  Before  I  could  yell  to  warn 
my  comrade  the  beast  leaped.  My  rope 
burned  as  it  slipped  through  my  hands.  The 
lion  sailed  into  the  air,  his  paws  wide-spread 
like  wings,  and  one  of  them  struck  Ken  on  the 
head  and  rolled  him  down  the  slope.  I 
jerked  back  on  my  rope  to  find  it  had  slipped 
its  hold. 

"He  slugged  me  one,"  remarked  Ken^ 
rising  and  picking  up  his  hat.  "  Did  he  break 
the  skin?" 

"No,  but  he  tore  your  hatband  off,"  I 
replied.  "Let's  keep  at  him." 

For  a  few  moments  or  an  hour — no  one  will 
ever  know  how  long — we  ran  around  him, 
raising  the  dust,  scattering  stones,  breaking 
the  branches,  as  we  dodged  his  onslaughts. 
He  leaped  at  us  to  the  full  length  of  his  tether, 
sailing  right  into  our  faces,  a  fierce,  uncowable, 
tigerish  beast.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  collar 
and  swivel  he  would  have  choked  himself  a 
hundred  times.  Quick  as  a  cat,  supple,  power- 
ful, tireless,  he  kept  on  the  go,  whirling, 
bounding,  leaping,  rolling,  till  it  seemed  we 
would  never  catch  him. 
230 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

"If  anything  breaks,  he'll  get  one  of  us," 
cried  Ken.  "  I  felt  his  breath  that  time." 

"  Lord!  How  I  wish  we  had  some  of  those 
fellows  here  who  say  lions  are  rank  cowards!" 
I  exclaimed. 

In  one  of  his  sweeping  side  swings  the  lion 
struck  the  rock  and  hung  there  on  its  flat 
surface  with  his  tail  hanging  over. 

"Attract  his  attention,"  I  shouted,  "but 
don't  get  too  close;  don't  make  him  jump." 

While  Ken  slowly  manceuvered  in  front  of  the 
lion  I  slipped  behind  the  rock,  lunged  for  the 
long  tail  and  got  a  good  hold  of  it.  Then  with 
a  whoop  I  ran  around  the  rock,  carrying  the 
kicking,  squalling  lion  clear  of  the  ground. 

"Now's  your  chance,"  I  yelled.  "Rope  a 
hind  foot!  I  can  hold  him." 

In  a  second  Ken  had  a  noose  fast  on  both 
hind  paws,  and  then  passed  his  rope  to  me. 
While  I  held  the  lion  he  again  climbed  the  tree, 
untied  the  knot  that  had  caused  so  much 
trouble,  and  shortly  we  had  our  obstinate 
captive  stretched  out  between  two  trees. 
After  which  we  took  a  much-needed  breathing 
spell. 

"Not  very  scientific,"  I  said,  by  way  of 
16  231 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

apologizing  for  our  crude  work,  "but  we  had 
to  get  him  some  way." 

"Dick,  do  you  know,  I  believe  Hiram  put 
up  a  job  on  us?"  said  Ken. 

"  Well,  maybe  he  did.  We  had  the  job  all 
right.  But  we  '11  make  short  work  of  him  now. ' ! 

While  Ken  held  the  chain  I  muzzled  the 
lion  with  a  stick  and  strands  of  lasso. 

"  Now  for  the  hardest  part  of  it,"  said  I — 
"packing  him  up." 

We  toiled  painfully  upward,  resting  every 
few  yards,  wet  with  sweat,  burning  with  heat, 
parching  for  water.  We  slipped  and  fell, 
got  up,  to  slip  and  fall  again.  The  dust 
choked  us.  Unheedingly  we  risked  our  lives 
on  the  brinks  of  precipices.  We  had  no 
thought  save  to  get  the  lion  up. 

We  had  to  climb  partly  sidewise,  with  the 
pole  in  the  hollow  of  our  elbows.  The  lion 
dragged  head  downward,  catching  in  the 
brush  and  on  the  stones.  Our  rests  became 
more  frequent.  I  had  the  downward  end  of 
the  pole,  and  therefore  thrice  the  weight,  and  I 
whistled  when  I  drew  breath.  Half  the  time 
I  saw  red  mist  before  my  eyes,  How  I  hated 
the  sliding  stones! 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

' '  Wait, ' '  I  panted  once.  ' '  You  're — younger 
— than  I — wait!" 

At  last  we  dropped  our  burden  in  the  shade 
of  a  cedar  where  the  other  lions  lay,  and  we 
stretched  ourselves  for  a  long,  sweet  rest. 

"Wonder — where — Jim  is?"  I  said. 

Then  I  heard  the  lions  wheezing,  coughing. 

"Ken!  Look!  The  lions  are  choking. 
They're  choking  of  thirst.  They'll  die  if  we 
don't  get  water.  .  .  .  That's  where  Jim  is — 
hunting  water." 

"Water  in  this  dry  place?  Where  will  we 
find  it?"  implored  Ken. 

After  all  our  efforts  and  wonderful  good 
luck  the  thought  of  losing  those  beautiful 
cougars  for  lack  of  a  little  water  was  almost 
sickening. 

"  Ken,  I  can't  do  another  lick.  I'm  played 
out.  You  must  find  water.  Don't  hope  and 
wait  for  Jim.  Go  yourself.  It  snowed  yes- 
terday." 

Then  into  my  mind  flashed  a  picture  of  the 
many  little  pockets  beaten  by  rains  into  the 
shelves  and  promontories  of  the  canon  rim. 

When  I  told  Ken  he  leaped  up  and  ran  like 
a  startled  deer.  I  watched  him  with  curious 
233 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

pride  and  faith.  What  an  athlete  he  was! 
He  swung  up  over  boulders,  he  drew  himself 
up  by  grasping  branches,  he  walked  straight 
up  steep  slides.  The  roar  of  a  starting 
avalanche  came  from  under  his  heels.  Then 
he  reached  the  rim  and  disappeared. 

For  what  seemed  a  long  time  he  remained 
out  of  my  sight;  then  he  appeared  carrying 
his  cap  in  both  hands.  He  had  found  water. 

He  began  the  downward  journey.  Like  a 
tight-rope  performer  he  balanced  himself  on 
crumbling  stones.  He  stepped  with  the  skill 
of  a  goat;  he  zigzagged  weathered  slopes;  he 
leaped  fissures  and  ran  along  yellow  slides. 
The  farther  down  he  got,  the  faster  he  came, 
until  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  wings.  Places 
that  in  an  ordinary  moment  would  have 
seemed  impassable  he  sailed  over  with  the 
light  touch  of  sure  feet.  Then  he  bore  down 
upon  me  with  an  Indian  yell  of  triumph. 

"Ken,  old  boy,  you're  a  wonder!"  I  ex- 
claimed. 

He  grasped  a  lion  by  the  ears  and  held  his 

head  up.     I  saturated  my  handkerchief  and 

squeezed    the    water    into    his    mouth.     He 

wheezed,  coughed,  choked,  but  to  our  joy  he 

234 


STRENUOUS    WORK 

swallowed.  He  had  to  swallow.  One  after 
another  we  served  them  so,  seeing  with  un- 
mistakable relief  the  sure  signs  of  recovery. 
Their  eyes  cleared  and  brightened;  the  dry 
coughing  that  distressed  us  so  ceased;  the 
froth  came  no  more.  Spitfire,  as  we  had 
christened  the  savage  brute  which  had  fought 
us  to  a  standstill,  raised  his  head,  the  gold  in 
his  beautiful  eyes  glowed  like  fire,  and  he 
growled  in  token  of  returning  life  and  defiance. 

Ken  and  I  sank  back  in  unutterable  relief. 

"Waa-hoo!"  Hiram's  yell  came  breaking 
the  warm  quiet  of  the  slope.  Our  comrade 
appeared  riding  down.  The  voice  of  the 
Indian  calling  to  Marc  mingled  with  the 
ringing  of  iron-shod  hoofs  on  the  stones. 

Then  Jim,  stooping  under  the  cedars,  ap- 
peared from  the  opposite  direction. 

"  Hello!  Shore  I've  been  huntin'  water,  an' 
couldn't  find  none.  Hevn't  you  seen  the  need 
of  it?"  Suddenly  he  grasped  the  situation, 
and  his  red  face  relaxed  and  beamed. 

Hiram  surveyed  the  small  level  spot  in  the 
shade  of  the  cedars.  He  gazed  from  the  lions 
to  us,  and  his  dry  laugh  split  the  air. 

"Dog-gone  me  if  you  didn't  do  it!" 
235 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

HAL'S  LESSON 

IT  was  a  strange  procession  that  soon  emerged 
*  from  Left  Canon.  Stranger  to  us  than  the 
lion  heads  bobbing  out  of  the  sacks  was  the 
sight  of  Navvy  riding  in  front  of  the  lions.  I 
kept  well  in  the  rear,  for  if  anything  happened, 
which  I  thought  more  than  likely,  I  wanted 
to  see  it.  Before  we  had  reached  the  out- 
skirts of  the  pines,  I  observed  that  the  piece 
of  lasso  round  Spitfire's  nose  had  worked  loose. 

I  was  about  to  speak  when  the  lion  opened 
a  corner  of  his  mouth  and  fastened  his  teeth 
in  the  Navajo's  overalls.  He  did  not  catch 
the  flesh,  for  when  Navvy  turned  he  wore  only 
an  expression  of  curiosity.  But  when  he  saw 
Spitfire  chewing  at  him  he  uttered  a  shrill 
scream  and  fell  sidewise  off  his  horse. 

Then  there  were  two  difficulties;  to  catch 
the  frightened  horse  and  to  persuade  the 
Indian  he  had  not  been  bitten,  We  failed 
236 


HAL'S    LESSON 

in  the  latter.  Navvy  gave  us  and  the  lions 
a  wide  berth,  and  walked  to  camp. 

Hal  was  waiting  for  us,  and  said  he  had 
chased  a  lion  south  along  the  rim  till  the 
hound  got  away  from  him. 

Spitfire,  having  already  been  chained,  was 
the  first  lion  we  endeavored  to  introduce  to 
our  family  of  captives.  He  raised  such  a 
fearful  row  that  we  had  to  take  him  quite  a 
little  distance  from  the  others. 

"We  hev  two  dog  chains,"  said  Hiram, 
"but  not  a  collar  or  a  swivel  in  camp.  We 
can't  chain  the  lions  without  swivels.  They'd 
choke  themselves  in  two  minutes." 

Once  more  for  the  hundredth  time  he  came 
to  the  rescue  with  his  inventive  and  mechanical 
skill.  He  took  the  largest  pair  of  hobbles  we 
had,  and  with  an  axe,  a  knife,  and  wire  nippers 
fashioned  two  collars  with  swivels  that  in 
strength  and  serviceability  were  an  improve- 
ment on  those  we  had  bought. 

Darkness  was  enveloping  the  forest  when 
we  finished  supper.  I  fell  into  my  bed  and, 
despite  the  throbbing  and  burning  of  my 
body,  soon  relapsed  into  slumber.  And  I 
crawled  out  next  morning  late  for  breakfast, 
237 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

stiff,  worn  out,  crippled.  The  boys,  too,  were 
crippled,  but  happy.  Six  lions  roaring  in 
concert  were  enough  to  bring  contentment. 

Hiram  engaged  himself  upon  a  new  pair 
of  trousers,  which  he  contrived  to  produce 
from  two  of  our  empty  meal-bags.  The  lower 
half  of  his  overalls  had  gone  to  decorate  the 
cedar  spikes  and  brush,  and  these  new  bag-leg 
trousers,  while  somewhat  remarkable  for  de- 
sign, answered  the  purpose  well  enough.  His 
coat  was  somewhere  along  the  canon  rim, 
his  shoes  were  full  of  holes,  his  shirt  in  strips, 
and  his  trousers  in  rags.  Jim  looked  like  a 
scarecrow.  Ken  looked  as  if  he  had  been 
fired  from  a  cannon.  But,  fortunately  for 
him,  he  had  an  extra  suit. 

Hal  spent  the  afternoon  with  the  lions, 
photographing  them,  listening  to  their  spitting 
and  growling,  and  watching  them  fight  their 
chains,  and  roll  up  like  balls  of  fur.  From 
different  parts  of  the  forest  he  tried  to  creep 
unsuspected  upon  them;  but  always  when  he 
peeped  out  from  behind  a  tree  or  log,  every 
pair  of  ears  would  be  erect,  every  pair  of  eyes 
gleaming  and  suspicious. 

Spitfire  afforded  more  amusement  than  all 
238 


HAL'S    LESSON 

the  others.  He  had  indeed  the  temper  of  a 
king;  he  had  been  born  for  sovereignty,  not 
slavery.  He  tried  in  every  way  to  frighten 
Hal,  and,  failing,  he  always  ended  with  a 
spring  to  the  length  of  his  chain.  This  means 
was  always  effective.  Hal  simply  could  not 
stand  still  when  the  lion  leaped;  and  in  turn 
he  tried  every  artifice  he  could  think  of  to 
make  him  back  away  and  take  refuge  behind 
his  tree.  He  ran  at  him  with  a  club  as  if  he 
were  going  to  kill  him.  Spitfire  waited  crouch- 
ing and  could  not  be  budged.  Finally  Hal 
bethought  himself  of  a  red  flannel  hood  that 
Hiram  had  given  him,  saying  he  might  have 
use  for  it  on  cold  nights.  It  was  a  weird, 
flaming  head-gear,  falling,  cloak-like,  down 
over  Hal's  shoulders.  Hal  started  to  crawl 
on  all  fours  toward  Spitfire.  This  was  too 
much  for  the  cougar.  In  his  astonishment  he 
forgot  to  spit  and  growl,  and  he  backed  behind 
the  little  pine,  from  which  he  regarded  Hal 
with  growing  perplexity. 

"Youngster,  I  hev  been  watchin'  you  fer 

the  last  hour  or  so,"  remarked  Hiram.     "An' 

I  want  to  give  you  a  piece  of  advice.     Thar's 

sech  a  thing  as  bein'  foolhardy  brave.     You 

239 


THE    YOUNG    LION    ilUNTER 

don't  seem  to  reckon  that  them  critters  a;  3 
cougars,  wild  cougars,  an'  not  pets." 

"But  I'm  not  afraid,"  replied  Hal,  boldly. 

"Wai,  I  noticed  thet.  Mebbe  you  don't 
know  what  danger  is.  Let  me  tell  you  a  story 
I  read.  Thar  was  a  time  onct  in  the  old 
country  when  officers  of  the  great  French  army 
was  reviewin'  the  troops  as  they  marched  out 
to  battle.  Presently  a  big  corporal  strutted 
by,  bold  an'  important,  swaggerin'  himself, 
an'  lookin'  fight  all  over. 

"'Thet's  a  brave  soldier,'  said  one  of  the 
officers  to  Napoleon.  The  Emperor  shook 
his  head,  an'  said:  'No!'  Arter  a  while  a 
little  drummer  boy  marched  by.  He  was 
drummin'  away  fer  dear  life,  as  if  by  drummin' 
hard  he  could  keep  up  his  courage.  But  he 
was  white  as  a  sheet,  an*  his  eyes  stuck  out, 
an'  he  was  sweatin',  an'  every  step  he  took 
seemed  to  be  with  leaden  feet. 

"'Thar's  a  brave  soldier,'  said  Napoleon. 
'  He  knows  the  danger.' " 

Hiram's  story  did  not  appear  to  have  any 
great  effect  on  Hal.  For  a  while  the  lad  left  the 
lions  alone,  but  presently  he  was  back  torment- 
ing them.  He  was  not  at  all  mean  or  vicious  in 
240 


HAL'S    LESSON 

his  teasing;  it  was  simply  that  they  fascinated 
him  and  he  could  not  let  them  alone.  Finally, 
when  Hal  slipped,  in  one  of  his  escapes,  just 
eluding  Spitfire  by  the  narrowest  margin, 
Hiram  ordered  him  to  keep  away  from  them 
altogether.  Whereupon  Hal  strode  off  in 
anger. 

"  I  never  seen  sich  a  youngster/'  explained 
Hiram. 

"  Shore  he  needs  a  lesson,  an'  he's  goin'  to 
git  it,"  said  Jim.  "If  the  boy  only  hes  the 
temper  cooled  in  him,  an'  not  broke  outright, 
hell  be  fine." 

Ken  gave  one  of  his  short  laughs. 

"That  kid  is  powder,  brimstone,  dynamite, 
and  chain-lightning  all  mixed  with  a  compound, 
concentrated  solution  of  deviltry.  Why,  he 
has  positively  been  good  so  far  on  this  trip," 

Hiram  groaned. 

"Ken,  a  few  years  ago  you  were  almost 
exactly  the  same  kid  that  Hal  is  now,"  I  said, 
with  a  smile. 

"  I  was  not,"  declared  Ken,  hotly. 

"  Youngster,  'pears  to  me  you  did  some  tall 
scrappin'  fer  this  same  bad  kid  brother," 
remarked  Hiram. 

241 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER    l 

"That's  different.  I  can  fight  for  Hal  and 
still  condemn  his  trickiness,  can't  I?" 

The  afternoon  passed,  then  sunset,  and  the 
shades  spread  darkly  under  the  pines ;  supper- 
time  went  by,  darkness  came  on,  the  camp-fire 
blazed — and  still  Hal  Ward  did  not  come  back. 
We  were  not  especially  worried  on  this  score, 
but  when  bedtime  rolled  around  and  no  Hal, 
then  both  Ken  and  Hiram  showed  anxiety. 

Morning  dawned  without  his  return.  We 
had  a  late  breakfast  purposely,  as  we  expected 
him  to  be  in  by  the  time  Navvy  drove  up  the 
horses.  But  there  was  no  sign  of  Hal. 

"Something  has  happened  to  him,  sure," 
Ken  said. 

Both  Jim  and  I  took  a  different  view, 
agreeing  that  the  lad  had  slept  out  for  fun, 
perhaps  to  cause  us  concern,  and  that  he 
would  not  come  in  until  he  was  hungry. 

Hiram  had  no  comment  to  make,  but  it  was 
plain  that  he  did  not  like  the  possibilities. 
Ken  showed  no  desire  for  lion-hunting,  so 
we  did  not  go  out  that  day.  When  night 
came  again  and  Hal  had  not  returned  we  were 
at  our  wits'  end.  But  knowing  his  singular 
propensity  for  tricks,  and  believing  that  he 
242 


HAL'S    LESSON 

would  do  almost  anything  in  the  way  of  mis- 
chief, we  still  remained  in  camp,  hoping  that 
he  would  get  as  tired  of  the  joke  as  we  were, 
and  return. 

Next  morning  Hiram  routed  us  out  early. 

"  Fellars,  I  think  we've  been  good  an* 
wrong  fer  hangin'  around  here  waitin'  fer  the 
youngster,  tricks  or  no  tricks.  It's  been 
growin'  on  me  thet  somethin'  onusual  hes 
come  off.  We  could  hev  follered  his  tracks 
yesterday  a  tarnal  sight  better  than  to-day. 
Leslie,  you  an'  Ken  rim  the  plateau-wall. 
Look  fer  tracks,  an'  keep  signalin'.  Jim  an' 
me'll  search  the  pine,  an'  the  cedar  thickets, 
an'  the  hollers." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  search  the  thickets 
and  hollows  for?"  demanded  Ken,  with  wide 
eyes  of  misgiving. 

When  Hiram  had  no  answer  for  him  Ken 
grew  greatly  perturbed. 

"Hiram,  you  don't  think — it  possible — a 
cougar  could  have  jumped  the  boy?" 

"  Possible?     Sartinly  it's  possible.     It's  not 

likely,  though.     But  I've  knowed  more  than. 

one  fellar  to  be  attacked  by  a  hungry  cougar. 

I've  hed  one  foller  me,  more  than  onct,  ,  .  . 

243 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

Now,  youngster,  don't  look  sick  thet  way. 
Thet  boy  hed  to  hev  somethin'  happen  to  him, 
somethin'  serious.  It  was  jest  plain  as  the 
nose  on  his  face.  I  hope,  an'  believe,  of  course, 
thet  we'll  find  him  safe.  But  you'd  better 
prepare  yourself  fer  a  jar." 

The  expression  of  Ken's  face  made  me 
almost  sick,  too;  and  what  little  hope  I  had 
oozed  out. 

"  Leslie,  you'd  better  see  if  any  hosses  hev 
come  up  or  gone  down  the  trail  at  the  Saddle," 
called  Hiram,  as  Ken  and  I  rode  off. 

"  I  tell  you,  Dick,  I'm  afraid  Hiram  takes  a 
bad  meaning  from  Hal's  absence,"  said  Ken. 
"  He  meant  by  what  he  said  to  you  that  those 
rangers,  Belden  and  Sells,  might  have  got 
hold  of  Hal." 

"  I  hope  they  have,  because  then  we'd  get 
only  a  scare,  and  Hal  wouldn't  be  hurt  much. 
.  .  .  Well,  go  slow  now,  Ken,  and  keep  up  hope. ' ' 

We  separated  at  the  rim  and  took  different 
directions.  It  was  high  noon  when  we  met 
again  on  the  other  side  of  the  plateau.  Neither 
of  us  had  found  a  trace  of  Hal.  We  turned 
for  camp,  hoping  against  hope  that  Hiram 
and  Jim  would  have  a  different  story. 
244 


HAL'S    LESSON 

They  were  both  in  camp  when  we  arrived, 
and  they  ran  out  under  the  pines  to  meet  us. 
It  was  plain  that  they  hoped  to  receive  the 
news  from  us  which  we  had  hoped  to  hear 
from  them. 

It  was  a  gloomy  meeting. 

"  I  failed  to  foller  Hal's  tracks,  an'  Jim,  he 
failed,  too,  an'  Jim  ain't  no  slouch  on  follerin* 
tracks.  It  would  take  an  Injun — " 

The  same  thought  came  to  us  and  we  aH 
shouted:  "Put  Navvy  on  Hal's  trail." 

Hiram  called  the  Navajo  and  began  to  try 
to  tell  him,  by  signs  and  speech,  that  Hal  was 
lost  and  that  we  wanted  his  trail  followed. 

"  Me  savvy,"  said  the  Indian. 

He  threw  the  bridle  of  Ken's  mustang  over 
his  arm,  and  then,  bending  over  the  faint 
imprints  of  Hal's  boots,  he  slowly  walked  into 
the  forest  leading  the  mustang. 

"Don't  foller  him.  Let  him  alone,"  said 
Hiram,  as  Ken  and  I  pressed  forward. 

The  Navajo's  snail-like  progress  was  intol- 
erable to  watch,  yet  it  was  hopeful,  too,  for  it 
meant  that  he  was  able  to  pick  out  Hal's  trail. 
A  long  hour  passed  before  Navvy  disappeared 
in  the  forest.  Another  passed,  still  longer. 
245 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

And  a  third  went  by  that  seemed  intermin- 
able. 

"  Wai,  them  desert  Navajos  hev  the  sharpest 
eyes  in  the  world  fer  a  trail.  .  .  .  Youngster, 
he'll  find  your  brother. " 

Suddenly  I  saw  a  black  streak  darting  in 
the  forest. 

"Look!" 

It  shot  across  an  open  space,  disappeared, 
came  in  sight  again.  It  was  a  horse. 

"  Wild  hoss,  I'm  afeard,"  said  Hiram. 

"No,  it's  the  mustang,"  said  Jim.  "I 
guess  mebbe  I  hevn't  often  seen  a  redskin 
pushiii'  a  mustang  to  his  limit." 

"Oh!  it's  Navvy,"  exclaimed  Ken.  "Look 
at  him  come ! ' ' 

"Youngster,  now  you're  seein'  some  real 
ridin',"  said  Hiram. 

The  beautiful  black  mustang  swept  toward 
camp  at  the  speed  of  the  wind.  He  ran  on  a 
straight  line,  sailing  over  logs,  splitting  through 
the  bunch  of  juniper  with  flying  mane  and 
tail.  The  dark  Indian  crouched  low  and  rode 
as  if  he  were  part  of  the  mustang.  There  .was 
something  wild  in  that  fleet  approach,  some- 
thing thrilling  and  full  of  hope.  The  Navajo 
240 


HAL'S    LESSON 

gained  the  camp  circle,  pulled  up  the  mustang 
until  he  slid  on  his  haunches,  and  leaped  from 
the  saddle. 

We  crowded  toward  him.  He  said  a  few 
words  in  Navajo,  which  none  of  us  could  trans- 
late. There  was  no  telling  anything  from  his 
dark,  impassive  face.  Then  he  made  motions 
with  his  hands  and  his  meaning  became  at 
once  clear.  Hal  had  fallen  over  the  rim. 

"Oh!  Oh!"  cried  Ken  Ward,  covering  his 
face  with  his  hands. 

It  was  a  black  moment  for  all  of  us.  Hiram 
and  Jim  glanced  compassionately  at  Ken; 
but  I  could  not  bear  to  look  at  him.  As  I 
turned  away  I  saw  the  Indian  pick  up  two 
lassoes  and  a  canteen. 

"Tohodena!  Tohodena!"  ("Hurry— hur- 
ry!"), said  the  Navajo. 

That  put  new  life  into  us. 

"  Look,  Ken,  the  Indian's  grabbed  up  can- 
teen and  ropes.  That  means  Hal  is  alive." 

Ken's  face  seemed  transfigured.  He  darted 
for  Hal's  mustang,  which  was  with  our  other 
horses,  threw  on  a  saddle  and  buckled  it  with 
nervous  haste.  We  were  mounted  as  soon  as 
Ken.  Navvy  swung  his  quirt  and  the  race 
17  247 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

was  on.  It  was  a  race  and  a  mad  one  to  keep 
the  Indian  in  sight.  Our  lion  chases  were 
tame  beside  this  wild  ride.  The  pines  blurred 
all  about  me;  the  brown  sward  seemed  to 
shoot  backwards  under  me;  the  wind  howled 
in  my  ears.  I  kept  close  at  the  heels  of 
Hiram's  thundering  roan.  The  Indian  with 
marvelous  skill  held  to  a  straight  line.  Logs 
and  thickets  and  hollows,  even  deep  gulches 
did  not  make  him  swerve.  Once  I  got  a  good 
look  ahead,  and  there  was  Ken  riding  Wings 
almost  a  rod  ahead  of  Jim,  who  had  a  lead  over 
Hiram.  I  thought  at  the  moment  how  proud 
Hal  would  have  been  of  Wings.  But  fast  as 
Ken  was  driving  him  the  pinto  could  not 
catch  the  mustang. 

The  pines  thinned  out  and  clumps  of  cedar 
appeared  with  patches  of  sage.  The  Navajo 
reined  in,  leaped  off,  and  waited  till  we  raced 
up.  In  a  twinkling  we  were  off  ready  to 
follow.  He  carried  the  lassoes  and  the  canteen. 

We  were  directly  above  a  cape  of  crumbling 
rim  rock.  To  me  the  great  abyss,  with  its 
purple  clefts  and  gold  domes  and  red  walls, 
had  never  appeared  so  sinister  and  menacing. 
The  Indian  led  down  a  short  slope  of  sage  and 
248 


THE    OLD    HUNTER   FEEDING    THE    CAPTIVE    LIONS 


HAL'S    LESSON 

then  went  out  upon  a  jutting  section  of  walL 
This  cape  appeared  to  be  cut  up  into  crags  and 
castles  and  columns  of  yellow  stone.  One 
crumbling  mass  resembled  a  ruined  pipe-organ 
of  grand  proportions.  We  wound  in  and  out, 
always  dangerously  near  the  precipice,  follow- 
ing the  rim- wall  of  this  cape.  The  Lrdian 
halted  upon  the  edge  of  a  kind  of  cove,  a  cut-in 
some  fifty  yards  across  at  the  widest,  where 
it  opened  out  into  the  chasm.  I  saw  that  the 
wall  on  the  opposite  side  was  perpendicular 
and  almost  forty  feet  high. 

Navvy  dropped  to  his  knees  and  leaned  over 
the  rim.  We  followed  suit.  I  found  myself 
looking  down  at  a  straight  wall,  then  a  narrow 
shelf  of  de"bris,  and  below  that  a  small  grassy 
plot  of  ground  which  sloped  to  the  main 
rim-wall. 

Ken  Ward  let  out  a  bursting  yell  of  joy. 
Then  I  saw  Hal  lying  on  one  side  of  the  plot. 
There  was  a  bloody  wound  on  the  side  of  his 
cheek  and  temple. 

"  Ah,  there!"  he  said,  faintly,  and  he  smiled 
a  smile  that  was  as  feeble  as  his  voice. 

I  could  not  tell  what  the  greeting  was  we 
shouted  down  to  him,  for  the  reason  that  we 
249 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

all  shouted  at  once.  Then  we  leaped  up  from 
the  rim,  ready  for  action.  The  first  thing  Ken 
Ward  did  was  to  give  the  Navajo  such  a  hug 
that  I  made  sure  he  would  crush  the  Indian's 
ribs.  Navvy  smiled  at  this  rough  treatment 
as  if  he  knew  what  it  meant  to  lose  and  find  a 
brother. 

"Cool  down  now,  youngster,"  said  Hiram, 
-"an*  let  me  engineer  this  bizness." 

Jim  was  more  agitated  than  I  had  ever  seen 
him.  He  kept  peeping  over  the  rim. 

"Hiram,  he  shore  ain't  moved  a  hand  or 
foot  since  we  got  here,"  whispered  Jim. 

"Mebbe  he's  too  weak,"  replied  Hiram. 

The  old  hunter  carefully  tied  up  two  lassoes, 
then  two  more,  and  putting  these  together 
he  made  a  double  rope  more  than  fifty  feet 
long. 

"Ken,  we'll  let  you  down,"  he  said,  running 
a  noose  under  Ken's  arms. 

With  Hiram  and  Jim  holding  the  rope  Ken 
slipped  over  the  rim  and  soon  reached  the 
shelf  below. 

"  Hal,  old  boy,  are  you  hurt — very  much?" 
asked  Ken,  as  he  knelt  by  his  brother. 

"  Water !    Water ! ' '  whispered  Hal. 
250 


HAL'S    LESSON 

"  Pitch  me  the  canteen — quick,"  called  Ken. 

Hiram  took  it  from  Navvy  and  carefully 
poised  it. 

"  Make  sure,  youngster.  It  might  hit  a 
rock  an'  bounce  down  the  slope." 

"Pitch  it!"  cried  Ken  in  scornful  distrac- 
tion. "  Have  I  played  bafl.  all  these  years  for 
nothing?  Pitch  it!" 

"Thar,"  called  Hiram,  and  he  pitched  the 
canteen.  Ken  caught  it  with  steel-like  clutch, 
and  then  he  was  kneeling  by  Hal,  holding 
up  the  boy's  head  and  helping  him  to  drink. 
From  the  length  of  that  drink  Hal  must  have 
been  pretty  thirsty. 

"Hal,  tell  me  now — where  are  you  hurt?" 
asked  Ken. 

The  boy  whispered  something  that  only 
Ken  heard.  And  we  saw  that  Ken  began  to 
feel  for  broken  bones  and  search  for  injuries. 

"  Hiram,  all  I  can  find  is  the  bruise  on  his 
face  and  a  bad  ankle.  It's  black  and  blue  and 
swollen  out  of  shape.  I'm  afraid  it's  broken. 
He  can  move  all  over,  so  his  spine  can't  be 
hurt." 

"Good!  Now,  youngster,  you  take  off 
your  coat  an'  put  it  round  Hal,  under  his 
251 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

arms,  whar  the  rope  goes.  .  .  .  Thar,  thet's 
right.  Now  you  lift  him  an'  git  him  straight 
under  us.  ...  Steady  now.  .  .  .  Help  me 
lift  him,  Jim.  An'  Leslie,  you  stand  ready 
to  grab  him  when  we  git  him  up." 

In  less  than  two  minutes  we  had  Hal  lying 
on  the  rim  above.  I  hardly  recognized  his 
face.  It  was  pallid  except  for  the  bloody 
bruise,  and  his  eyes  were  deep-set  with  a 
strained  expression  of  pain,  and  his  lips  were 
drawn.  He  had  changed  terribly. 

"Oh,  I'm  all — here,"  he  whispered.  But  it 
was  only  a  faint  likeness  of  his  old  spirit. 

"  Say!  throw  me  the  rope,"  yelled  Ken. 

Hiram  threw  it  over,  and,  while  he  and  I  held 
firmly,  Ken  came  up  hand  over  hand. 

"Leslie,  you  lead  back  an'  break  a  trail 
through  the  brush,"  directed  Hiram,  as  he 
carefully  lifted  Hal  in  his  arms.  We  were 
not  long  in  getting  to  the  horses.  Here  Hiram 
placed  Hal  astride  his  roan,  and  walked,  with 
an  arm  steadying  the  lad,  while  Jim  rode 
alongside  and  helped.  This  procession  was 
very  slow  in  reaching  camp. 

When  we  arrived  there,  Hiram  made  a 
thorough  examination  of  the  boy  and  to  our 
252 


HAL'S    LESSON 

great  relief  announced  that  there  were  no 
serious  injuries. 

"He's  got  a  knock  on  the  side  of  his  head, 
an'  a  sprained  ankle,  an'  mebbe  he's  sufferin* 
from  shock,  but  he'll  be  around  in  a  few  days." 

We  washed  the  blood  from  Hal's  face  and 
bathed  his  ankle  in  hot  water.  His  face  was 
so  painful  and  his  lips  so  swollen  that  it  was 
difficult  for  him  to  eat,  but  after  he  had  forced 
down  some  potato  soup  and  a  few  mouthfuls 
of  coffee  he  appeared  to  gather  a  little  strength. 
We  were  so  overjoyed  to  have  him  back  alive 
and  comparatively  well  that  all  thought  of  his 
delinquencies  had  been  forgotten.  But,  evi- 
dently, Hal  had  not  forgotten,  for  he  looked 
wistfully  at  Ken  and  Hiram.  It  appeared  to 
me  that  Hal  wanted  to  be  helped  out  in  his 
confession.  None  of  us,  however,  asked  him 
a  question. 

"Ken,"  he  said,  finally,  and  his  voice  was 
strangely  weak,  "  I  ran  off  bull-headed  mad, 
but  I  didn't  stay  away  for  spite.  I  chased 
some  kind  of  a  young  animal — a  young  coyote, 
I  think — and  I  fell  over  the  rim." 

"Forget  it,"  replied  Ken,  cheerfully. 

"  I  yelled  and  yelled, ' '  went  on  Hal.  "  Then 
353 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

I  knew  you  wouldn't  be  hunting  for  me,  be- 
cause you'd  all  figure  I  was  playing  a  trick, 
trying  to  scare  you.  So  I  stopped  yelling. 
The  pain  wasn't  so  bad.  I  could  have  stood 
that.  But  the  thought  of  you  not  hunting 
for  me  for  a  long  time — that  hurt.  It  made 
me  sick.  Then  after  the  first  night  and  the 
next  day  I  got  thirsty.  I  had  a  fever,  I  guess, 
for  I  was  flighty.  Pretty  soon  I  believed — 
you'd  never  find  me.  Then — then — " 

He  never  completed  that  sentence,  but  his 
look  was  eloquent.  Hal  Ward  had  been  face 
to  face  with  his  first  real  tragedy  in  life.  The 
lesson  that  Jim  had  prophesied  had  been  a 
terrible  one. 

"Ken,"  he  said,  after  a  long  silence,  "I 
broke  my  promise  to  you.  One  thing  I  did 
promise,  you  know.  That  was  to  be  careful." 

"  It's  all  right,  kid,"  replied  Ken. 

"Jim,"  he  went  on,  after  another  silence, 
"  I  guess  you  won't  let  me  'rustle'  with  you — 
any  more?" 

"Shore  I  will — shore,"  replied  Jim,  hurri- 
edly, as  he  fumbled  aimlessly  with  his  pipe. 

Then  there  was  a  third  silence,  this  one  the 
longest. 

254 


HAL'S    LESSON 

"Hiram,"  said  Hal,  "do  you  remember — 
you  called  me  a  young  Injun  once,  and  then 
I  heard  you  say  the  only  good  Injun  was  a 
dead  one?" 

"Wai,  lad,  what  about  it?"  asked  Hiram, 
kindly. 

"When  I  lay  down  in  that  dark  hole,  at 
night,  with  the  stars  shining  in  my  face — I 
never  slept  a  wink — I  thought  of  what  you 
had  said — of  your  advice — and  I  made  up  my 
mind  if  I  ever  got  out  alive  I'd  fool  you 
about  being  a  good  Injun.  ...  I'm  goin* 
to  be  one." 

"Amen,"  cried  Ken  Ward,  fervently. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

KEN   AND   PRINCE 

NEXT  morning  Hiram  was  out  bright  and 
early,  yelling  to  Navvy  to  hurry  with  the 
horses,  calling  to  the  hounds  and  lions  and 
routing  us  from  warm  blankets. 

Navvy  had  come  into  his  own :  he  received 
his  full  meed  of  praise  from  all  of  us.  Even 
Jim,  reluctantly  feeling  the  place  in  his  hip 
where  he  carried  a  pellet  of  Indian  lead,  ac- 
knowledged that  Navvy  had  been  invaluable. 
"  Shore,  he's  the  only  good  redskin  I  ever  seen, 
an'  I  guess  I'll  hev  to  change  my  mind  about 
lif tin 'his  scalp." 

"Tohodena!"  said  Navvy,  mimicking  Hiram. 
Perhaps  we  all  contrasted  this  jocular  use  of 
the  word  with  the  grim  meaning  he  had  given 
to  it  the  day  before. 

As  we  sat  down  to  breakfast  he  loped  off 
into  the  forest,  and  before  we  got  up  the  bells 
off  the  horses  were  jingling  in  the  hollow. 
256 


KEN   AND    PRINCE 

"Shore,  it's  goin'  to  be  cloudy,"  said  Jim. 

"  If  it's  just  the  same  to  you  fellows,  I'll 
keep  camp,"  remarked  Hal. 

"  Wai,  lad,  I  reckon  so,"  was  Hiram's  reply. 

Indeed,  we  carried  Hal  out  of  Hiram's  tent 
and  propped  him  up  with  blankets.  It  would 
probably  be  several  days  before  he  could  use 
his  injured  ankle.  He  was  haggard,  and  the 
bruise  had  grown  blacker.  But  the  terrible, 
strained  shadow  of  pain  in  his  eyes  had 
given  place  to  something  brighter  and 
softer. 

"  Shore  I'm  goin'  to  keep  camp  with  you," 
drawled  Jim,  presently. 

"That  will  be  fine — but  Ken  and  Hiram 
and  Dick  will  need  you." 

"They  can  need  an'  be  darned.  I'm  tired 
climbin'  out  of  them  gashes.  My  heart  ain't 
right  yet,  after  luggin'  thet  cougar  eleven  miles 
or  less  straight  up  in  the  air." 

"Wai,  youngster,"  said  Hiram  to  Ken — 
it  was  strange  and  incomprehensible  why  he 
called  Hal  "lad"  and  Ken  "youngster,"  but  so 
it  was — "  I  reckon  we've  got  more  sassy  cou- 
gars right  now  than  we  can  pack  off  this  pla- 
teau. Packin'  them  out — thar'U  be  some  fun." 
257 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

"  Everything  yet  has  been  fun — except  some 
of  my  stunts,"  replied  Hal. 

After  breakfast  we  made  a  comfortables 
lounging  place  for  Hal  and  left  him  in  care  of 
Jim.  Then  Ken,  Hiram,  and  I  rode  down  the 
ridge  to  the  left  of  Middle  Canon.  All  the  way 
we  had  trouble  with  the  hounds.  First  they 
ran  foul  of  a  coyote,  which  was  the  one  and 
only  beast  they  could  not  resist.  Spreading 
out  to  head  them  off,  we  separated.  I  cut 
into  a  hollow  and  rode  to  its  end,  and  there  I 
went  up.  I  heard  the  hounds  and  presently 
saw  a  big  white  coyote  making  fast  time 
through  the  forest  glades.  It  looked  as  if  he 
would  cross  close  to  me,  so  I  dismounted  and 
knelt  with  my  rifle  ready.  The  coyote  saw 
me  and  shied  off.  I  sent  several  singing, 
zipping  bullets  after  him,  which  only  served 
to  make  him  run  the  faster.  Remounting  I 
turned  toward  my  companions,  now  hallooing 
from  a  ridge  below. 

The  pack  lost  some  time  on  old  trails,  but 
we  reached  the  cedars  about  eight  o'clock; 
and  as  the  sky  was  overcast  with  low  dun- 
colored  clouds  and  the  air  cool,  we  were  sure 
it  was  not  too  late. 

258 


KEN   AND    PRINCE 

Soon  we  were  in  the  thick  of  dense  cedars. 
There,  with  but  a  single  bark  to  warn  us, 
Prince  got  out  of  sight  and  hearing.  While 
we  separated  to  look  for  him  the  remainder  of 
the  pack  hit  a  trail,  and  then  they  were  off. 
I  kept  them  in  hearing  for  some  time.  Mean- 
while Hiram  and  Ken  might  as  well  have  van- 
ished off  the  globe  for  all  I  could  see  or  hear 
of  them.  Occasionally  I  halted  to  let  out  a 
signal. 

"Waa-hoo!" 

Away  on  the  dry  air  pealed  the  cry,  piercing 
the  cedar  forest,  splitting  sharp  in  the  walled 
canons  and  clapping  back  and  forth  from  wall 
to  wall,  rolling  on  to  lose  power,  to  die  away 
in  mocking  silence. 

I  rode  to  and  fro,  up  this  gully  and  down 
that  one.  I  rimmed  what  seemed  a  thousand 
canons  and  yelled  till  I  was  out  of  breath,  but 
I  could  not  find  a  trace  or  hear  a  sound  that 
belonged  to  my  companions  or  the  hounds. 

So  I  turned  my  horse  toward  camp,  and  it 
was  noon  when  I  got  there.  About  three 
o'clock  Curley  came  in,  foot-sore  and  weary. 
Next  was  Queen  and  she  could  scarcely  touch 
her  crippled  foot  to  the  ground.  An  hour 
259 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

after  her  arrival  Ringer  came  in.  He  was  worn 
out,  dusty,  and  panting  with  thirst  and  heat. 

"Shore  everybody  was  huntin'  fer  himself 
to-day,"  remarked  Jim. 

At  five  o'clock  Hiram's  gaunt  charger 
snapped  the  dead  wood  in  the  hollow.  The 
tall  hunter  got  off  and  untied  two  cougar  skins 
from  the  back  of  his  saddle. 

"Whar  were  you  an'  the  youngster?"  he 
demanded.  "Thet's  what  I  want  to  know." 

"I  lost  you  both  and  couldn't  hit  your 
trail  again,"  I  replied. 

"  Wai,  the  hounds  got  up  cougar  chases  fer 
themselves  to-day.  Prince  lit  out  an'  thet 
settled  it.  I  lost  'em  all  but  Mux  an'  Tan." 

As  he  spoke  the  two  hounds  limped  into 
camp. 

"  I  reckon  Ken  is  sittin'  under  a  cedar, 
holdin'  Prince,  an'  yellin'  fer  us  to  come  an' 
help  him  git  his  cougar.  .  .  .  It's  been  another 
queer  huntin'  day.  Dog-gone  it!  this  plateau 
is  a  curious  split-up  place,  an'  no  wonder 
we  can't  do  nuthin'.  I  hed  to  kill  the  two 
cougars  I  treed,  arter  I  waited  hours  fer  you 
an'  Ken.  .  .  .  Wai,  I'll  rest  a  little  an'  then 
git  supper." 

260 


KEN    AND    PRINCE 

"Gee!  Hiram,  I  hope  Ken's  all  right,"  ex- 
claimed Hal,  anxiously. 

"Don't  you  worry,  lad.  He'll  be  ridin'  in 
soon." 

Hiram  had  just  taken  the  steaming  supper 
off  the  fire  when  the  barking  of  the  hounds 
announced  Ken's  appearance.  He  rode 
wearily  under  the  pines  and  Prince  trotted 
wearily  behind. 

"Jest  in  time,  youngster,"  called  the  old 
hunter,  cheerily. 

Ken  fell  rather  than  dismounted,  and  he 
slipped  to  the  ground  and  stretched  out  so 
slowly,  so  painfully,  so  gratefully,  that  it  was 
easy  to  see  what  he  had  been  through.  His 
clothes  were  in  tatters  and  he  was  white  and 
spent.  To  our  solicitations  he  whispered: 
"Wait!"  And  he  lay  there  for  full  five 
minutes  before  he  crawled  to  the  supper-cloth. 

We  were  all  curious,  and  Hal  was  wild  to 
hear  Ken's  adventure.  There  was  something 
about  Ken  Ward,  before  a  time  of  stress,  or 
after  hard  action,  that  thrilled  one  with  its 
significance.  When  supper  was  over  and  we 
sat  in  a  circle  round  the  ruddy  camp-fire,  with 
the  cool  wind  singing  in  the  pines  and  the 
261 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

shadows  of  night  darkening,  Hiram  said: 
"Wai,  youngster,  I  reckon  we  want  to  hyar 
about  it." 

Ken  was  still  silent  and  there  was  a  brooding 
grimness  about  his  thoughtful  face.  As  we 
waited  for  Ken  to  take  his  time  Prince  edged 
nearer  the  fire — for  the  air  was  chill — and 
when  the  great  hound  laid  his  splendid  head 
on  Ken's  knee  and  looked  up  with  somber 
eyes,  the  boy  seemed  to  burst  out  involunta- 
rily: "  Prince  saved  my  life!" 

"He  did?"  breathed  Hal,  his  shining  eyes 
full  on  his  brother.  "Tell  me — everything!" 

Ken  settled  back  and  began  his  story. 

"  Sometime  this  morning  I  lost  Hiram  and 
the  hounds.  I  found  myself  in  a  dark,  gloomy 
forest.  After  a  while  this  forest  got  all  but 
impenetrable.  Dead  cedars  lay  in  windfalls; 
live  cedars,  branches  touching  the  ground, 
grew  close  together.  I  lost  my  bearings.  I 
turned  and  turned,  crossed  my  own  back-trail, 
which  I  followed,  coming  out  of  the  cedars  at 
a  deep  canon. 

"  Here  I  fired  my  revolver,  but  no  answering 
shot  came.  There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do 
but  wander  along  in  the  hope  of  rinding  Hiram 
262 


KEN   AND    PRINCE 

or  Dick.  I  was  riding  on  when  I  saw  Prince 
come  trotting  to  me. 

l"  Hello,  old  boy,'  I  said.  Prince  seemed 
to  be  as  glad  to  see  me  as  I  was  to  see  him.  He 
flopped  down  and  panted  with  a  dripping 
tongue  jerking  out  of  his  mouth.  He  was 
covered  with  dust  and  flecked  with  froth. 

"'All  in,  Prince?'  I  asked.  'We'll  rest  a- 
while.'  Then  I  discovered  blood  on  his  ear 
and  found  the  ear  slit.  He  had  been  pushing 
a  cougar  too  hard  that  morning. 

"  I  filled  my  hat  with  water  from  my  canteen 
and  gave  Prince  a  drink.  Four  times  he 
emptied  the  hat  before  he  was  satisfied.  Then 
he  laid  his  head  against  me  and  rested. 

"  Prince  got  up  finally  of  his  own  accord, 
and  with  a  wag  of  his  tail  set  off  westward. 
I  kept  my  mustang  as  close  to  Prince  as  the 
rough  going  permitted.  We  came  out  in  the 
notch  of  the  great  curve  we  had  named  the 
Bay.  I  was  just  about  to  shout  for  you  when 
I  saw  Prince  with  his  hair  bristling.  He  took 
a  dozen  jumps,  then  yelping  broke  down  the 
steep  gorge  and  disappeared. 

"  I  found  a  fresh  track  of  the  big  lion  that 
we  have  chased  so  often,  and  decided  to  follow 

18  263 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

Prince.  I  tied  my  mustang  and  took  off  my 
coat  and  spurs  and  chaps,  and  fastened  a  red 
bandana  to  the  top  of  a  dead  cedar  to  show 
me  where  to  come  up  on  my  way  back. 

"  I  went  down  about  five  hundred  feet  until 
a  precipice  stopped  me.  From  it  I  heard 
Prince  baying  and  almost  instantly  saw  a  lion 
in  a  tree-top. 

" That  roused  me  and  I  yelled, '  Hi!  Hi!  Hi!' 
to  encourage  Prince. 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  wise  to  look  before  I 
leaped.  The  Bay  lay  under  me,  a  mile  wide 
where  it  opened  into  the  big  smoky  Canon. 
It  seemed  like  an  awful,  bottomless  pit.  I  tell 
you  for  a  moment  the  sight  shook  my  nerve, 
but  I  had  to  go  after  Prince.  I  ran  along  to 
the  left  and  came  to  where  the  cliff  ended  in  a 
weathered  slope. 

"Once  started  in  dead  earnest,  it  was  like 
playing  a  game  that  had  to  be  won.  My 
boots  struck  fire  from  the  rocks.  I  slid  and 
hung  on  and  let  go  to  slide  again.  I  started 
avalanches  of  weathered  rock  and  then  out- 
footed  them. 

"But  soon  I  had  to  go  slower  and  climb 
over  things.  Prince  bayed  once  in  a  while, 
264 


KEN   AND    PRINCE 

and  I  yelled  to  him  to  let  him  know  I  was 
coming.  A  white  bank  of  decayed  limestone 
led  down  to  a  runway,  where  I  made  up  time. 
Here  Prince's  bay  kept  me  going.  Flying 
down  this  to  a  clump  of  cedars,  I  ran  in  among 
them  and  saw  Prince  standing  with  fore  paws 
against  a  big  cedar.  I  saw  a  lion  moving 
down.  Then  the  crash  and  rattle  of  stones 
told  me  he  had  jumped.  Prince  ran  after  him. 

"  I  dashed  down,  dodged  under  cedars,  and 
threaded  openings  in  the  rocks  to  come  to  a 
ravine  with  a  bare,  water- worn  floor.  Patches 
of  sand  showed  the  tracks  of  Prince  and  the 
lion.  Those  of  the  lion  were  so  large  they 
made  my  blood  run  cold.  They  were  twice 
the  size  of  any  tracks  I  had  seen  before.  Run- 
ning down  this  dry  stream-bed  was  the  easiest 
going  yet.  Every  rod  or  so  the  stream-bed 
dropped  from  four  to  ten  feet,  often  more, 
and  these  places  I  slid  down. 

"  The  cougar  didn't  appear  to  tree  any  more. 
I  feared  every  moment  to  hear  the  sounds  of 
a  fight,  for  I  remembered  that  Hiram  had  said 
an  old  cougar  would  get  tired  running  and 
stop  to  kill  the  hound. 

"  Down,  down,  down  I  went.  I  saw  that  we 
265 


THE    YOUNG   LION   HUNTER 

were  almost  to  the  real  jump-off,  the  great, 
wide  main  canon,  and  I  wondered  what  would 
happen  when  we  reached  it.  Suddenly  I 
came  upon  Prince  baying  wildly  under  a  pinon 
on  the  brink  of  a  deep  cove. 

"Looking  up  I  had  the  fright  of  my  life. 
The  cougar  was  immense  and  so  old  that  his 
color  was  almost  gray.  His  head  was  huge, 
his  paws  short  and  round.  He  did  not  spit, 
nor  snarl,  nor  growl;  he  did  not  look  at  Prince, 
but  kept  his  half -shut  eyes  on  me. 

"  Before  I  had  time  to  move  he  left  his  perch 
and  hit  the  ground  with  a  thud.  At  first  I 
made  sure  he  intended  to  attack  me,  and  I 
jerked  out  my  revolver.  But  he  walked 
slowly  past  Prince  and  without  a  moment's 
hesitation  leaped  down  into  the  cove.  A 
rattling  crash  of  sliding  stones  came  up  with 
a  cloud  of  dust.  Then  I  saw  him  leisurely 
picking  his  way  among  the  rough  stones. 

"  Prince  came  whining  to  me,  and  together 
we  went  along  the  cove  till  we  found  a  place 
where  we  could  get  down.  We  crawled  and 
jumped  and  fell  till  we  reached  the  bottom, 
and  again  Prince  took  the  trail. 

"Almost  before  I  knew  what  I  was  about  I 
266 


KEN   AND    PRINCE 

stood  on  the  second  wall  of  the  canon,  with 
nothing  but  thin  air  under  me.  I  tell  you  it 
made  me  gasp. 

"  Prince's  bark  came  to  me,  and  I  turned 
round  a  comer  of  cliff  wall  and  saw  him  on  a 
narrow  shelf.  He  was  coming,  and  when  he 
got  to  me  he  faced  about  and  barked  fiercely. 
The  hair  on  his  neck  stuck  up. 

" '  Come  on,  Prince, '  I  called. 

"That  was  the  only  time  I  ever  knew  of 
Prince  hesitating  to  chase  a  lion.  I  had  to 
coax  him,  for  he  didn't  like  that  narrow  shelf. 
But,  once  started,  he  wouldn  't  let  me  lead.  The 
shelf  was  twenty  feet  wide,  and  close  to  the 
wall  were  lion  tracks  in  the  dust.  A  jutting 
corner  of  cliff  wall  hid  my  view.  I  peeped 
round  it.  On  the  other  side  the  shelf  narrowed 
and  it  climbed  a  little  by  broken  steps.  Prince 
passed  the  corner,  looked  back  to  see  if  I  was 
coming,  and  went  on.  He  looked  back  four 
times,  and  once  he  waited  for  me  to  come  up 
with  him. 

" 'I'm  with  you,  Prince,'  I  kept  calling. 

"  The  shelf  narrowed  till  it  was  scarcely  three 
feet  wide.  Prince  stopped  barking,  then  looked 
back  for  me.  A  protruding  corner  shut  me 
267 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

from  sight  of  what  lay  beyond.  Prince  slipped 
round.  I  had  to  go  sidewise  and  my  fingers 
bit  into  the  wall. 

"  To  my  surprise  I  found  myself  on  the  floor 
of  a  shallow  wind-cave.  The  lion  trail  led 
straight  across  it  and  on.  Prince  went  slower 
and  slower. 

"  I  rounded  the  next  point,  and  crossed 
another  shallow  cave,  and  slipped  by  another 
corner  to  come  upon  a  wonderful  scene.  The 
trail  ended  there.  In  the  center  of  a  wide 
shelf  sat  the  great  lion  on  his  haunches,  with 
his  long  tail  lashing  out  over  the  precipice. 
When  he  saw  us  he  turned  round  and  walked 
the  whole  length  of  the  shelf  with  his  head  bent 
over.  He  was  looking  for  a  place  to  jump. 
Then  he  stopped  and  bent  his  head  so  far  over 
the  abyss  that  I  thought  he  would  fall. 

"  All  at  once  I  thought  of  my  camera,  and 
at  the  same  time  forgot  all  about  Hiram's 
telling  me  never  to  take  my  eye  off  a  cougar 
when  at  close  quarters.  I  got  my  camera, 
opened  it,  and  focused  for  about  twenty-five 
feet. 

"Then  a  wild  yelp  from  Prince  and  a  roar 
from  the  cougar  brought  me  to  my  senses. 
268 


KEN    AND    PRINCE 

The  cat  leaped  ten  feet  and  stood  snarling 
horribly  almost  in  my  face.  His  lashing  tail 
knocked  little  stones  off  the  shelf.  I  pulled 
out  my  revolver  and  aimed,  once,  twice,  but 
was  afraid  to  shoot.  If  I  wounded  him  he 
would  knock  us  off  the  shelf. 

"It  was  then  I  got  scared  and  began  to 
shake  so  I  could  scarcely  keep  my  knees  from 
sinking  under  me.  But  good  old  Prince  was 
braver  than  I,  and  he  had  more  sense.  He 
faced  the  lion  and  bayed  at  him. 

" '  Hold  him,  Prince,  hold  him, '  I  yelled,  and  I 
took  a  backward  step. 

"  The  cougar  put  forward  one  big  paw.  His 
eyes  were  now  purple  blazes.  I  backed  again 
and  he  stepped  forward.  Prince  gave  ground 
slowly.  Once  the  lion  flashed  a  yellow  paw 
at  him.  It  was  frightful  to  see  the  wide-spread 
claws.  In  the  terror  of  the  moment  I  let  the 
lion  back  me  clear  across  the  front  of  the  wind- 
cave,  where  I  saw,  the  moment  it  was  too  late, 
I  should  have  taken  advantage  of  more  space 
to  shoot  him. 

"The  cougar  was  master  of  the  situation. 
I  kept  backing  step  by  step,  and  I  saw  the 
shelf  narrowing  under  my  feet.  When  I  re- 
269 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

membered  the  place  where  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  me  to  back  around  I  almost 
fainted.  I  stopped  stock  still  and  almost 
tottered  over  the  precipice. 

"  Somehow  Prince's  bravery  gave  me  a  kind 
of  desperate  strength  at  the  last.  The  lion,  tak- 
ing slow,  cat-like  steps,  backed  Prince  against 
my  knees.  The  great  brute  was  within  his 
own  length  of  me,  so  close  that  I  smelt  him. 
His  eyes  fascinated  me.  Hugging  the  wall 
with  my  body,  I  brought  up  the  revolver, 
short-armed,  and,  straining  every  nerve,  I 
aimed  between  those  eyes  and  pulled  the  trig- 
ger. 

"The  cougar's  left  eye  seemed  to  vanish 
with  the  bellow  of  the  revolver  and  the  smell 
of  powder.  He  uttered  a  hoarse  howl,  and 
rose  straight  up,  towering  over  me,  beating 
the  wall  heavily  with  his  paws. 

' '  I  stood  there,  helpless  with  terror,  forgetting 
my  weapon,  fearing  only  that  the  beast  would 
fall  over  on  me  and  brush  me  off  the  shelf. 
But  in  his  death  agony  he  bounded  out  from 
the  wall,  turned  over  and  over,  and  went  down 
out  of  sight. 

"  I  had  to  sit  down  then.  I  was  all  in.  The 
270 


KEN    AND    PRINCE 

relief  made  me  sick.  I  sat  there  with  Prince's 
head  on  my  knees,  and  slowly  got  back  my 
strength.  Finally,  when  I  tried  to  rise,  my 
legs  were  still  shaky  and  I  felt  as  weak  as  if 
I  were  just  up  from  a  long  sickness.  Three 
times  I  tried  to  go  round  the  narrow  place. 
On  the  fourth  I  braced  up  and  went  around, 
and  soon  reached  the  turn  of  the  wall. 

"  I  was  six  hours  in  climbing  out.  .  .  .  And 
I  guess  I've  had  enough  cougar  chasing  to  do 
me  for  a  while." 


CHAPTER  XX 

AROUND  THE   CAMP-FIRE 

""tyl/AL,  youngster,"  began  the  old  hunter, 

»  *  after  a  long  silence,  "  I  allus  reckoned 
thet  Prince  was  a  great  hound.  An'  it's  only 
when  a  fellar  gits  out  alone  with  a  dog  an'  gits 
in  lonesome  or  dangerous  places  thet  he  really 
knows  how  human  a  dog  is." 

"  Oh !  it  was  grand  of  Prince  to  stay  between 
Ken  and  the  lion,"  exclaimed  Hal. 

"Shore  it's  a  shame  thet  hound '11  hev  to 
be  killed  by  a  cougar  some  day,"  remarked 
Jim. 

"I  reckon  now  thet  day '11  never  come," 
replied  Hiram. 

"Why?    Shore  you  always  said  so." 

"  Prince  shall  never  put  his  nose  to  another 
cougar  trail,  an'  he's  goin'  back  to  Pennsyl- 
vania with  the  youngster." 

"  Hiram!  do  you  really  mean  to  give  him  to 
me?"  asked  Ken,  in  glad  surprise. 
272 


AROUND   THE    CAMP-FIRE 

"Wai,  I  reckon  so.  Ill  miss  him,  but 
Ringer  is  comin'  on,  an'  will  lead  the  pack." 

"Hiram — it's  good  of  you — I'll — "  Ken 
left  off  and  hugged  Prince  by  way  of  reply, 
and  the  hound  licked  his  face.  For  once  Hal 
did  not  look  jealous  over  Ken's  possession  of 
something  that  he  could  not  hope  to  rival 
for  himself. 

"  Ken,  if  you  have  enough  cougar  hunting, 
what  next  ? "  I  asked. 

"  The  rest  of  my  time  here  I'll  put  in  study- 
ing forestry,  and  I  want  you  to  help  me.  I 
declare,  I've  completely  forgotten  my  work. 
But  I'll  make  it  up.  I'm  a  fine  ranger,  eh?" 

"Wai,  youngster,  a  ranger's  duties  are 
many,"  replied  Hiram.  "Now,  if  the  Chief 
was  to  ask  you  about  cougars,  same  as  he 
asked  you  about  forest-fires  last  summer,  you 
could  tell  him  a  few  things." 

"  I  guess  I  could,"  declared  Ken. 

"Your  time  hasn't  been  wasted,  an'  now 
thet  nobody  has  been  hurt  bad  or  any  hosses 
or  hounds  killed  I  feel  pretty  happy  about 
the  hunt.  From  now  on,  while  I'm  hyar  on 
the  plateau,  I'll  tree  cougars  an'  kill  'em,  fer 
I've  orders  to  clear  the  preserve  of  them,  you 
273 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTER 

know.  Meantime  you  will  be  addin'  to  your 
knowledge  of  trees,  an'  Hal  will  be  gittin'  well. 
I  calkilate  he  ought  not  to  ride  down  these 
trails  fer  two  weeks.  Thet  will  be  long  enough 
for  his  ankle  to  git  strong.  Then  we'll  pack 
our  cougars  out  to  Kanab.  An'  we've  got  to 
stop  down  in  the  brakes  at  our  corral,  an' 
ketch  our  wild  mustangs.  We've  most  forgot 
them.  It'll  be  some  fun — thet  job." 

"  Ken,  are  you  going  back  to  college  this 
fall?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes,  but  I  intend  to  get  ahead  of  my  term 
and  take  some  time  off — about  January  and 
February — to  go  South.  I  want  to  see  the 
tropics,  to  study  the  jungle  timber  and  vegeta- 
tion." 

"Shore  you'll  look  up  some  trouble  down 
there,"  said  Jim.  "I've  been  in  Mexican 
jungles,  along  the  Rio  Grande.  Millions  of 
things  to  shoot." 

"Ken,  I'm  going  with  you,"  declared  Hal. 

"  You're  going  to  start  in  college,"  said  Ken, 
severely. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I'd  be  any  good  in  college 
with  you  somewhere  in  the  jungle?    Wait  till 
I  see  father,    He'll  let  me  go.'* 
274 


AROUND   THE   GAMP-FIRE 

"  You'd  have  a  fine  chance  ever  getting  to 
go  to  any  wild  place  again — if  I  told  him  how 
you  jumped  over  the  rim  of  the  Grand  Canon 
just  to  scare  your  brother  and  friends!" 

"I  didn't— I  didn't,"  denied  Hal,  vehe- 
mently. "I  fell  over — and  I  knocked  some 
sense  into  me,  too.  .  .  .  But,  Ken,  youll 
never  tell  the  governor,  will  you?" 

"  Lad,  I  reckon  Ken  won't  give  you  away," 
said  Hiram.  "  Fer  he  an'  all  of  us  believe  thet 
adventure  has  taught  you  the  difference  be- 
tween fun  an'  foolhardiness.  I'd  trust  you 
now,  an'  if  I  would,  surely  your  brother 
would.  .  .  .  Now,  Leslie,  you  spring  your 
littJe  surprise  on  the  boys." 

I  turned  to  Ken  and  Hal,  then  hesitated. 

"  Hiram,"  I  said,  "are  you  sure  the  Indian 
can't  understand  English?  I  don't  want  even 
a  word  of  this  to  get  to  any  ears  but  ours." 

Ken  Ward  leaned  forward,  with  his  eyes 
suddenly  flashing  dark,  and  Hal  sat  up  in 
glowing  curiosity.  Hiram  sent  the  Navajo 
off  to  bunch  the  horses. 

"Well,  boys,  it's  this,"  I  began.  "Hiram 
and  Jim  and  I  are  not  going  to  sign  contracts 
with  the  Forest  Service  for  next  year.  We 
871 


THE    YOUNG    LION   HUNTER 

think  we've  got  something  a  little  better. 
We've  found  traces  of  gold  down  in  the  Canon, 
and  we  believe  there's  enough  gold  to  pay 
us  to  go  after  it.  And  there  are  chances  we 
may  strike  it  rich.  ...  So  next  summer  we 
want  you  both  to  come  out  and  go  with  us — 
after  gold." 

Ken  Ward  uttered  his  ringing  shout  and 
Hal  looked  the  wild  joy  that  his  speechless 
tongue  could  not  utter.  That  was  their 
answer. 

"  Wai,  wal,  somehow  I  kinder  thought  you'd 
like  the  idee,"  said  Hiram,  as  he  filled  his  pipe. 
"We  all  want  you  to  come  bad.  Thar'll  be 
some  of  the  real  thing — 'specially  if  any  of 
them  no-good  fellars  like  the  one  Ken  licked 
git  wind  of  our  enterprise.  Wal,  I  reckor 
we'd  hev  to  fight.  How  about  thet,  Jim?" 

"  Shore,  shore,"  replied  the  Texan. 

So  the  three  of  us  talked  and  planned  while 
Ken  and  Hal  drank  in  every  little  word. 

Meanwhile  the  camp-fire  died  down  to  a 
small  red  blaze  and  the  shadows  darkened 
under  the  pines.  Prince  went  to  sleep  with 
his  head  on  his  new  master's  knees.  From 
the  captive  lions  came  an  occasional  soft- 


AROUND   THE    CAMP-FIRE 

padded,  stealthy  step  and  a  low  growl  and  a 
clink  of  chain.  The  wind  began  to  moan.  A 
twig  snapped,  and  the  lithe  figure  of  the  Indian 
strode  out  of  the  forest  gloom. 

"Sleep-ie,  Navvy?"  asked  Ken. 

"Moocho,"  answered  the  Navajo. 

Then  he  began  to  prepare  his  bed  for  the 
night.  Selecting  a  spot  close  to  the  camp- 
fire,  he  dug  out  a  little  pit  in  the  pine-needles 
and  threw  a  blanket  over  it.  He  kicked  off 
his  shoes,  lay  down  and  curled  up  with  his 
back  and  the  soles  of  his  bare  feet  toward  the 
heat.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  moment  he 
had  pulled  his  other  scant  blanket  over  his 
shoulders  he  went  to  sleep. 

The  red  light  of  the  dying  fire  shone  on  his 
dusky  face  and  tangled  black  hair.  Ken 
Ward  watched  him,  and  so  did  Hal.  Lying 
there,  covered  with  his  old  blanket,  there  was 
Indian  enough  and  wildness  enough  about 
him  to  suit  any  boy.  By  and  by,  as  we  all 
sat  silent,  Navvy  began  to  mumble  in  his  sleep. 

"Shore  I'll  hev  to  scalp  thet  Injun  yet," 
declared  Jim. 

"Dog-gone  me  if  he  ain't  got  a  nightmare!" 

ejaculated  Hiram. 

277 


THE    YOUNG    LION    HUNTEP 

"No,  I  think  he's  dreaming  of  the  adven- 
tures we'll  have  next  summer,"  said  Ken 
Ward. 

Ken's  idea  pleased  me.  And  long  after  the 
others  had  gone  to  bed,  no  doubt  to  dream 
with  the  Indian,  I  sat  wide  awake  beside  the 
ruddy  embers,  and  dreamed,  too,  of  the  sum- 
mer to  come.  It  would  be  a  wild  trip — that 
hunt  for  gold  down  in  the  canon.  With  Ken 
Ward  along  it  would  be  sure  to  develop  dan- 
gers; and  with  Hal  Ward  along  it  would  be 
sure  to  develop  amazing  situations. 

So  I  dreamed  on  till  the  fire  burned  out,  and 
the  blackness  gathered  thick,  and  the  wind 
roared  in  the  pines. 


TUB 


ZANE  GREY'S  NOVELS 

May  ba  had  wherever  books  are  sold.     Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap's  list. 

THE  MAN  OF  THE  FOREST 
THE  DESERT  OF  WHEAT; 
THE  U.  P.  TRAIL 
WILDFIRE 

THE  BORDER  LEGION 
THE  RAINBOW  TRAIL 
THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  DESERT 
RIDERS   OF  THE  PURPLE  SAGE 
THE  LIGHT  OF  WESTERN  STARS 
THE  LAST  OF  THE  PLAINSMEN 
THE  LONE  STAR  RANGER 
DESERT  GOLD 
BETTY  ZANE 


LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS 

The  life  story  of  "Buffalo  Bill"  by  his  sister  Helen  Cody 
Wetmore,  with  Foreword  and  conclusion  by  Zane  Grey. 

ZANE  GREY'S  BOOKS  FOR  BOYS 

KEN  WARD  IN  THE  JUNGLE 
THE  YOUNG  LION  HUNTER 
THE  YOUNG  FORESTER 
THE  YOUNG  PITCHER 
THE  SHORT  STOP 

THE  RED-HEADED  OUTFIELD  AND  OTHER 
BASEBALL  STORIES 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,        NEW  YORK 


EDGAR  RICE   BURROUGH'S 
NOVELS 

May  be  bad  whertver  books  are  sold.      Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dimlap's  ll«t. 

TARZAN  THE  UNTAMED 

Tells  of  Tarzan'  s  return  to  the  life  of  the  ape-man  in 
his  search  for  vengeance  on  those  who  took  from  him  his 
wife  and  home. 

JUNGLE  TALES  OF  TARZAN 

Records  the  many  wonderful  exploits  by  which  Tarzan 
proves  his  right  to  ape  kingship. 

A  PRINCESS  OF  MARS 

Forty-three  million  miles  from  the  earth — a  succession 
of  the  weirdest  and  most  astounding  adventures  in  fiction. 
John  Carter,  American,  finds  himself  on  the  planet  Mars, 
battling  for  a  beautiful  woman,  with  the  Green  Men  of 
Mars,  terrible  creatures  fifteen  feet  high,  mounted  on 
horses  like  dragons. 

THE  GODS  OF  MARS 

Continuing  John  Carter7  s  adventures  on  the  Planet  Mars, 
in  which  he  does  battle  against  the  ferocious  "plant  men," 
creatures  whose  mighty  tails  swished  their  victims  to  instant 
death,  and  defies  Issus,  the  terrible  Goddess  of  Death, 
whom  all  Mars  worships  and  reveres. 

THE  WARLORD  OF  MARS 

Old  acquaintances,  made  in  the  two  other  stories,  reap- 
pear, Tars  Tarkas,  Tardos  Mors  and  others.  There  is  a 
happy  ending  to  the  story  in  the  union  of  the  Warlord, 
the  title  conferred  upon  John  Carter,  with  Dejah  Thoris. 

THUVIA,  MAID  OF  MARS 

The  fourth  volume  of  the  series.  The  story  centers 
around  the  adventures  of  Carthoris,  the  son  of  John  Car- 
ter and  Thuvia,  daughter  of  a  Martian  Emperor. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAR,  PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


UN  6     1^4 

\PR  1  2   1957 


QL  OCT  1 4 


APR  2  7  199 
ABTS 


^orm  L9-42m-8,'49(B5573)444 


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04 

JUL  261988 


998 


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L  007  407  588  8 


